


All I Wanna Do

by erinville99



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Banter, Captainswan AU, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Hitchhiking, Road Trip, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Swearing, Violence, bed sharing, did i mention smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:00:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 59,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24995026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erinville99/pseuds/erinville99
Summary: Emma Nolan leaves behind a tumultuous relationship. She picks up a handsome hitchhiker and together they road trip up the east coast for a journey that will change the course of their lives.
Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan
Comments: 22
Kudos: 88





	1. The Rain

**Author's Note:**

> I've never published anything before. My musings usually stay tucked away in notebooks and computer files. I was shooting for angsty, tropey, fluffy fun, with a sprinkle of smut.

Emma leans her crossed arms over the balcony of the high rise. The tenth floor did have a beautiful view of the city. The Miami sun had set merely minutes ago, giving way to the twinkling of city lights below. She looks up to the sky. It is completely void of stars tonight and a thick cloud cover has taken their place. She can just make out the thunderheads in the distance, gently rolling toward them, as if a curse was coming to take them all away. Alas, the only curse tonight is the fact that Emma is trapped in a room full of strangers, forced to make small talk. She shivers as a spring breeze kisses her flushed skin. The slam of the sliding glass door startles her from her reverie.

“Emma, there you are!”

“Thank God, Ruby! I thought you were Neal.”

“No, he’s schmoozing with his rich friends indulging in his fifth glass of champagne.You won’t see him for awhile. The girls look out into the distance together. “Looks like a big one. Neal really does have a great view, hun. Just think, this place will be half yours in a matter of months. However, I think I’d reconsider the kitchen color if I were you.”

Emma rolls her eyes and moves from her place at the railing to face her best friend. “I would already be living here if he had his way. I just want to wait.”

“What exactly are you waiting for? Don’t get me wrong- I, for one, will miss being your roomie. You’re pretty awesome.”

“Thanks, Rubes. I’ll miss you, too!” She moves in to embrace Ruby in a tight hug. The brunette is eccentric, to say the least, but she's always been there for Emma.

“When you’re hitched, I hope you still take the time to _slum it_ with me.” Before Emma can respond, a giant clap of thunder jerks them apart. “I think that’s our cue, hun.”

They reenter the living room and Emma discovers her presence wasn’t really missed She scoffs at the amount of pretension in the room. _Ug, reminds me of one of my father's parties._ Ruby gives her a light smile and leaves to flirt with a blonde doctor in the corner of the room. Emma glances around for her wayward fiancé and finds him on the couch talking animatedly about his new sports car his father bought him last week as an engagement gift. She takes two steps toward the couch before her nerves get the best of her and she changes her trajectory, retreating to the spare bedroom. Emma takes out her phone and hides in the closet, pulling the door to, but not closing it. She tucks her knees to her chest and dials her mother.

“Mom?”

“Emma, are you ok? You sound upset. Is the engagement party not going well?”

“I’m fine, mom. I just wanted to hear your voice.” _Yeah, right._

“Sweetheart, I know you better than that. What’s wrong? I thought you were fine with a big party.”

“Eh, these people are just not my crowd. I’ll be fine tomorrow. Neal has a lot of friends. They couldn’t all fit at my apartment, you know.”

“No, and they’d have to shovel dirty clothes off of the couch to find a spot to sit.” She pauses when Emma doesn’t immediately respond. “In all seriousness and I know I’ve said this many times, but you can come home. No questions. No judgement. A woman is allowed to change her mind, and her heart for that matter. Life’s too short to be unhappy.”

“I know, mom. I’m fine. I swear.” Emma wipes the silent tears streaming from her cheeks. She most certainly wasn’t fine, but she was too damn stubborn to admit that. No one wants to accept they’ve wasted the past four years of their life chasing a man instead of their own dreams. Emma refuses to return to Maine with her tail between her legs to get an _I told you so_ from her parents. So, she changes the subject. “How’s dad?”

“There are going to be big changes once he retires. Most likely Graham will take his place as sheriff and they’ll have to find a new deputy. He’s still single you know.”

“Dad?”

“Very funny, Emma. I mean Graham. He’s so handsome.”

“And I am not _single_ , mom.”

“Well, just in case things don’t work out…”

“You’re unbelievable, mom. I lo-love Neal, I love being here. I’m not coming back to Storybrooke in any way, shape, or form.” She speaks the words, but they feel like ash on her tongue. _Do I love him? Really love him?_ She hears voices enter the bedroom, so she cups her hands around her phone and begins whispering. “Mom I’ve gotta go, I’ll come visit soon.”

“Ok, hun. I can’t wait.”

The voices get louder as they approach the bed. She hears the rustling of clothes and the smacking of lips. Emma is frozen in place as she slowly peeks out of the crack in the door. _Shit! I have got to get out of here._ She sees two bodies crash on top of one another onto the bed. She can’t make out their faces, but can see their entangled limbs writhing against each other. Emma covers her mouth with both hands as the couple begins to moan. 

“Oh, Neal! Fuck, I’ve missed you! I haven’t felt your body in a week.”

“I know, baby. We won’t go this long without ever again, I promise. This will have to be quick, though.” Neal reaches into his wallet for a condom. “Oh, Tamara! Did you lock the door?”

A thousand different emotions slam through Emma at once. Sadness, confusion, hurt, surprisingly even relief, but it’s pure unadulterated rage that wins out in the end. She gathers up every ounce of strength she has to stand and burst through the closet door, locking eyes with a shell shocked Neal.

“What the fuck is going on here!?”

“Em, this isn't what it seems!” He struggles to tuck himself back into his jeans.

“God! Can you say anything more cliché?!” She picks up a discarded shoe and throws it at his face. “Why don’t you tell me the truth? You’ve been fucking other people behind my back!”

“Babe, let’s just stay open minded about this. You don’t have the whole story.”

“Enlighten me. How long have you been seeing her?”

“Two years.”

“I’m outta here.” She turns to leave.

“You can’t leave me Emma, we need each other. We can make this work.” Neal reaches out and grabs her elbow, but she roughly jerks it back and points her index finger in his face.

“You don’t look like you need me, and I sure as hell don’t need you! My mother told me this would happen!” Emma moves toward the door, pushing Neal’s lover aside as she goes.

“Your mother? She’s the reason I’m in this damn mess!”

“What in the hell does that mean?!” Emma’s morbid curiosity is the only thing keeping her feet in the room. _Tamara? Wait, I know that name. She works with him. That bastard._ The leggy brunette walks up to her.

“Look, Emma. I hate to tell you, but Neal doesn’t love you anymore. The only reason he’s in Florida is to be close to me. He wanted to break up with you years ago, but Robert wouldn’t let him. I’m sorry you had to find out this way. I wanted to tell you about us. You are a marriage of convenience. Neal deserves love in his life.” Emma closes her fingers into tight fists and grits her teeth.

“Neal deserves a fire poker up his ass!”

“Emma, look, it’s true. I’ve fallen in love. I hope we can reach an agreement, though. My father just needs our marriage to be legal. You can take on extra lovers, as well.”

 _Why am I still standing here? I should be out the door. Because, you want the whole story, Emma._ “Robert Gold hates me, why would he want you to marry me?”

Tamara speaks up. “Because his impending divorce has nearly left him bankrupt. He needs Neal to marry into a wealthy family and your mother is worth millions. She’s practically royalty in Maine.”

“This is all bullshit. The whole time we were together, the whole time, you just wanted money? Neal, tell me this isn’t true.” Neal sighs and runs his hands through his hair. He has the audacity to look ashamed.

“What Tammy said is true. The plan was to marry into your family. As an only child, you will inherit everything upon their passing, thus I become rich.”

Emma sits down on the bed, the weight of the confession seeping into her bones. She looks expectantly up to Neal, silently imploring him to contradict his words. It’s then his lover further enlightens her.

“Quite frankly, he was going to off your folks, Emma. First, he would make sure you had a couple of kids to ensure his legacy, then he was going to stage your death, too.”

The calm and matter of fact demeanor of Neal’s lover greatly concerns Emma. As her mind is reeling, Neal gets in Tamara’s face.

“Fuck, Tamara! Do you want to go to jail? Don’t go telling her that shit! She’s never supposed to know that!” He turns to Emma. “Emma, I swear I would’ve never let dad go through with it. He’s crazy. I would’ve protected you and our children. Please, we can move on from this. I’ll let you bring someone else into the relationship, no one has to know. You can’t leave me. I can’t fuck this up!”

His plea is desperate, but so is her need to flee. Emma stands once more and calmly removes her gaudy diamond from her ring finger. She flings it across the room and it lands with a thud against the hardwood floor. “Fuck you, Neal! This charade is over!” _Don’t cry. You can do this. Hold it back, no tears. They don’t get to see you cry._

Emma leaves the party in a blur. She jumps into her yellow bug and speeds across town to the small apartment she shares with Ruby. She grabs her black duffel bag from the hall closet and immediately begins filling it. Clothes are flying haphazardly around her room as she crams everything deemed essential into it. She writes Ruby a note saying her phone will be turned off, but she is otherwise fine and going to Storybrooke. After smashing every framed picture of Neal, she grabs her purse and charger. Emma takes one last look around. _Goodbye, Florida_. She shuts the door to her beloved bug and starts the engine, just as the first drops of rain start to fall.


	2. The pick up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma picks up a handsome stranger that goes by the name of Killian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's Chapter 2. I've rewritten this chapter several times and could rewrite it several more, but I'll stop for now.

An hour into her journey, Emma is close to admitting defeat. Her adrenaline rush has crashed, leaving her physically exhausted. The rain has turned into a torrential downpour and she doesn't have any tears left to shed. Her head is pounding, her eyes are swollen, and her throat is raw. She pulls under the safety of a gas station awning and digs through her purse for some ibuprofen. While there, she tops her tank and goes inside for some sustenance. On her way out, she notices a dark figure in her peripheral. Startled at first, she slowly turns to find it’s just a man. He’s sitting on the curb clad only in a black t-shirt and jeans. He’s soaked, shivering, and _barefoot? Homeless_ , _obviously._ Yet, there’s something almost puppy-like about him and it pulls at her heartstrings, so she walks over to the man and holds out a stick of beef jerky to him. He raises his head to look at her and she is met with the most beautiful pair of blue eyes she’s ever seen. His inky black hair is plastered to his forehead and water droplets are running down his face and jawline until sticking to the ginger scruff of his chin. She also notices the cuts and bruises adorning his handsome face and the dark circles framing his eyes. Emma does a poor job of containing her gasp. _What could’ve happened to him?_ He then decides to break their staring contest.

“What’s this, then?” He gestures to the stick of processed meat dangling from her hand.

“Um, it’s food? You eat it. You looked, I don’t know? Hungry?” She feels almost shy and more than a bit foolish brandishing a stick of meat in front of a stranger.

He chuckles and smirks at her. “Hungry’s not the word I would've gone with, love.” She has to admit she’s intrigued by the timbre of his voice and the way his accent rolls off his tongue. _A homeless Brit?_

“Regardless, here’s something to eat.” He keeps staring at her with furrowed brows as if she’s a great mystery he’s trying to solve. When he doesn't immediately take her offering, she chucks the stick at him and it bounces off his chest with a light thud and onto his lap. She turns and scurries awkwardly to her car silently berating herself before he can respond. Once she reaches the safety of the bug, she pulls out her phone and turns it on. She has several missed calls and messages. _Delete, delete, delete, fucking delete, oh, Rubes!_ She decides to call Ruby and wait for the storm to wain. While explaining to her friend what went down at the party, she looks out of her windshield and spies the man actually eating her jerky stick. Something about it definitely warms her heart. _Glad I could help him in some small way._ She talks a bit more and the next time she looks up, he is getting into the backseat of a blue car. _Best of luck to you, pal._

Emma continues on her journey. She’s still several hours away from the Georgia border, but she concedes to get a room for the night. The rain has finally subsided with the exception of a few stray drops tapping lightly against the windshield. She’s loath to admit that she can barely keep her eyes open. She glances down to look at the time and takes her eyes off the road for a moment. When she looks back up, she sees a black figure on the side of the road and she swerves to avoid collision. The tires slide to and fro across the wet pavement until the breaks decide to kick in, bringing the bug to an abrupt halt. Emma pulls to the side of the road. She wipes the sweat from her palms onto her jeans and takes a moment to rest her head against the steering wheel to catch her breath. _That was close! Geez, I’m wide awake now!_ A light knocking to her passenger glass causes her heart to jump into her throat. She looks up to see the same man from the station peek worriedly at her. He says something, but it’s muffled. So, she gestures at her ears, indicating that she can’t hear him. She unbuckles and leans over to open the passenger door. _This is it, Emma. You’re about to be murdered._

“Sorry, the window doesn’t work. I couldn’t quite hear you.”

“Is there a reason you’ve just tried to kill me, lass?” He’s obviously shaken. His eyes are blown wide and his voice has gone up an octave.

“Oh, God! I’m so so sorry. I just looked down for a second and boom, there you were! Thank God I swerved in time.” _Keep it light, Emma._ “You should really wear brighter colors at night, ya know.” He picks up on her teasing and quirks up an eyebrow.

“Noted.” 

She taps on her steering wheel, contemplating her next move. She _did_ almost kill the man. “Where are you headed? Do you need a ride?” _Emma! You’ve just offered a cute murderer a ride, you idiot. They’ll find your body in an empty field._

He must see the apprehension in her body because he releases the door and takes a step back. He shuffles nervously. “Boston, but it’s okay, lass. I can wait for another ride if it makes you uneasy. I’m fine.”

“Says the barefoot homeless man on the side of the road.” 

“I’m not actually homeless, I’ve just had a rough day.” 

_That makes two of us._ She knows that Neal would never pick up a hitchhiker, and perhaps she shouldn’t either, but her caring nature wins out in the end. “Look, I was going to stop for lodging soon. I can take you 30 miles ahead. It isn’t much, but it’s nearly midnight and it’s not really safe for you to be walking along the road like this.”

“Aye, love. It’s a deal.” He stuffs himself into the passenger seat of the yellow car and closes the door. Within seconds, they’re on the road. It’s an awkward silence at first. He notices her eyeing him up again and clears his throat. “You might want to keep your eyes forward, lass. It’s safer driving that way.” _Busted._ She nods in agreement before he continues. “I’m not a murderer, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Ah-ha! You see, that’s exactly what a murderer would say,” she snarkily replies.

He releases a deep breath and faces her. “Good point, but I swear I’m harmless. Besides, just look at me, do I look like I’m good in a fight?” She can’t help but laugh out loud at the absurdity of his comment. _A sense of humor, I like that._

“I’m Killian, by the way. Killian Jones. I’d stick out my hand for you to shake, but I don’t think you could handle it. Best if we keep both hands on the wheel, aye?”

“Very funny. I’m Emma. Emma Nolan.”

After that, the pair sits in relative silence, with the exception of the low humming sound of the tires and the wet squishy sound Killian’s clothing makes. She turns up the heat for him.

“Thanks. I apologize about your seats. I bet you weren’t anticipating a soggy stranger sitting on them.

“You’re welcome. The seats are no big deal, I do have a pair of men’s flip flops in the trunk if you want to cover your feet, though.”

“I can’t inconvenience you anymore, darling. Why, between the ride and the jerky, I may never be able to repay you.” She detects the sarcasm in his voice, and immediately reads between the lines. Emma has become a master of deflecting feelings and vulnerability. Then, he pauses and shoots her a look that can only be described as salacious. “I’m sure we can think of something, though.” He bites his lower lip. It’s impossible to take the flirting seriously when he looks like a prize fighter who tangled with the Hulk during his last match. _He can’t be serious._

“Buddy, you obviously got the crap kicked out of you, then almost got hit by a car. Couple that with the fact that the only thing dry on you is your sense of humor and I’d say you’re in no position to seduce anyone.”

“Oooh, you’re a tough lass.”

She deadpans. “I’m a tired lass.”

He speaks low, as if talking to himself. “Aye, running away is a tiring task indeed.”

Emma is shocked and miffed by his comment. _How dare he make assumptions about me!_ “Why would you think I’m running?”

“Open-book. You’re very easy to read. Besides, I recognize the gesture.”

“Oh, yeah? What are you running from?” 

She expects a quip but his face softens as he whispers. “Everything.”

She contemplates the weight of that one word, and the multitude of layers this man has, when she spots the exit. “Killian, the motel is just off the next exit. I’ll get those shoes for you when we stop. Goodness knows the owner won’t need them.” 

“Thank you, love.”

“I have a name ya know. It’s Emma, remember?”

“Aye. I’ll keep that in mind.”

They pull up to the motel. _Neal wouldn’t dare stay in a place like this._ She cuts the engine and finds her passenger a pair of shoes. He reluctantly, almost shyly, takes them from her. She sees the insecurity in his eyes and she has the sudden urge to throw her arms around his neck and not let go. He gives her a nod of thanks with the tiniest of smiles. She figures he’s too tired to keep up the playboy alter ego.

“Well, sailor. This is where we part ways.”

“Aye. Do you think maybe...never-mind.”

“What?” 

He scratches nervously behind his right ear. “Could I possibly nap here in your car for a spell?”

“And have you gank it? No way!”

“Darling, if grand theft auto was my crime of choice, this tin can would be the last thing I’d take. Besides, I steal hearts, not cars.” Just like that, his swagger snaps back into place. _Another_ _defense mechanism. I see you, Jones._

“Fine. Quick nap. Good luck getting comfy with those long legs of yours.”

“Never had any complaints about them, before.”

She puts both hands on her hips. “Isn’t it exhausting spouting endless innuendos?”

“Sometimes. Seriously, though, I owe you a debt, Swan.”

“Excuse me, did you say Swan?”

“Aye, your pendant, lass. That’s a swan, is it not? Quite fitting if you ask me. You’re a thing of grace and beauty, but I think you’d genuinely bite my hand off if I crossed you.”

She rolls her eyes at him before shutting the car door. “Goodnight.”

“G’night.”

Emma lugs her duffel into the room and takes a shower to wash away the emotional grime from her body. Fresh pajamas can do wonders for the soul. She lays in bed and gazes out of the hazy motel window. She can just make out the outline of her car as the rain starts to trickle again. She thinks of her battered passenger trying to sleep in a compact car with drenched clothing. This thought makes her heart clench and her stomach roll uncomfortably. She pulls out her phone. Maybe Ruby is still awake. 

“Ugh, this had better be good.” _Definitely asleep._

“I need advice. I picked up a hitchhiker.”

“In the middle of the night?! Do you have a death wish?” She tells Ruby of her plight, while she listens intently.

“One question. Is he hot?”

“Did you miss the part where I said battered and bruised?”

“Doesn’t matter. Oh, Emma. This has the making of a _Heart_ song. You can drag him inside and take him to bone town!”

“First of all, doesn’t the chick in that song get knocked up? That’s a hard no! Second, he probably has broken ribs, “bone town” isn’t an option. Third, I’m hours out of a relationship.”

“I’m not asking you to marry the guy, just have a little fun.”

“Gah! Should I let him come in or not?” 

“Depends” She pauses. “Is he hot?” 

She throws her hands in the air. “Fuck, why am I wasting my time? Ok, I’m doing it, I’m inviting him in, if my body goes missing, locate a Killian Jones.”

“And what number on the hot o’meter should I give the cops?”

“Fine. A solid 8, I’m going now.”

“Be safe, hun!”

Emma walks from the bed to the motel door three times before finally stepping outside. _Stop being a baby._ She taps on the glass and startles him out of his slumber. He immediately covers his head in a protective stance. When he sees her face, he opens the door.

“Did you need something, lass?”

“Yes. Get inside me, er, the room. Get inside the _room_ . Now.” If he notices her slip up, he doesn’t say anything. _He didn’t hear that._ The rain continues to lightly fall, so he doesn’t argue with her. He extricates himself from the so-called “tin can” and follows her into the room. 

“I don’t understand, Swan. What is this about?”

“Look, I can’t sleep knowing you’re out there wet and cold while I’m warm and dry. There’s an extra bed. I insist you take it. Take a shower and warm up.”

He bites his lower lip again and saunters closer to her. “Will you be joining me?” _Fuuuuck! There it is, he heard your comment, dummy._

“Good Lord, you never take a break, do you?”

“Says the woman who just sai-”

“I know what I said. It was a slip of the tongue,” she snaps. “And don’t you dare use the words slip and tongue against me.”

He gives her a quizzical look then winks (blinks) at her. She sighs. “You do realize you’re supposed to use just one eye there, Romeo.”

“So, I’ve been told.” He starts to remove his shirt but stops midway and winces. “Bloody buggering fuck! That hurts.”

“Here. Let me.” She gently helps him extricate his shirt from his torso. She would normally find the smattering of dark hair and toned abs a turn on, but seeing his condition just breaks her heart. His upper body is covered in bruises and she still thinks one of his ribs could be broken. She unconsciously begins tracing her fingers up and down his chest. It’s cold and clammy from the hours spent in a wet t-shirt. She notices the goosebumps on his flesh and the unintentional shiver that wracks his body.

“Killian, what happened to you? You need a doctor.” 

He lowers his head and snippily replies. “I don’t wish to discuss it. I’ll be fine. Thanks for the help.” The tick in his jaw says otherwise, like he’s moments from having a mental breakdown.” With her delicate touch, they manage to remove his soaked jeans, too. She gestures toward the shower and he nods. She exhales a shaky breath and picks up his wet clothing. _Blow dry them in the morning?_ When she’s laying his jeans over the back of a corner chair, his wallet falls out of the back pocket. She opens it up and discovers it’s completely empty except for a Massachusetts driver’s license issued to one Killian Jones. She rubs her thumb across his picture before replacing it and looking inside the flap. No money, no credit cards, just a bent picture. It’s Killian and another man with their arms around each other dressed in uniform. _Navy?_ His blue eyes are sparkling and his smile even reaches his eyes. He doesn’t have the ginger scruff that he has now, but he is clearly a handsome man. _I was wrong, Ruby. This guy is a ten! Holy shit!_ She stares at the picture so long, she doesn’t hear him approach her.

“What are you looking for in there, lass?” She physically startles and drops the wallet on the ground. She crawls on the ground to get it and he squats down beside her wearing only a thin white towel. He takes the picture from her hand and places it back in the wallet. 

“‘Tis my brother, if you’re wondering.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been snooping. I just-”

“Wanted to look for clues as to my identity. I am who I say I am. I won’t cause you harm, I swear to it. I just don’t want to share the details of my day. I’d rather forget, if you don’t mind.”

“Yeah. Look, I don’t do this. Like, ever. I’ve had a day from hell, too. I’ve never picked up a hitcher in my life, let alone invited them to stay with me, but you seem like a decent guy. I don’t know, I feel a little out of sorts.”

“A goodnight’s sleep and you’ll feel better.” He politely holds out his hand to her and she takes it. He helps pull her back up to her feet and they lock eyes. Something compels her to raise her right hand and brush the stray hairs away from his face. What neither of them count on, is her hand bumping his abdomen and his towel falling from his body. 

She tries desperately to divert her attention elsewhere while he scrambles to pick up the towel. _Oh God, oh fuck, oh fuck, don’t look at his penis, don’t look down. Shit! You looked down. Way to go, Emma you just got an eye full of penis!_ His expression quickly changes from one of horror to one of complete mirth and she realizes her inner monologue wasn’t exactly “inner.”

“Oye, you wanted to see me fully naked after all. I’m flattered, darling, but I’m pretty tired.” He winks (blinks) at her again and Emma knows it’s to lighten the mood. 

“I’m so sorry, Killian! I’m normally not this big of a fuck up.”

“It’s fine, lass. Let’s get some sleep, aye?”

“Aye.”

They roll into their respective beds. They are comfy for a second rate motel. She is nearly asleep when she hears his voice cut through the darkness.

“I am sleeping nude, just so you know. My briefs are completely soaked.” He takes a deep breath and from his inability to reign in a giggle, she knows the next thing out of his mouth will be a sexual remark. “After eyeing up my manhood, I’m curious as to the moisture level of _your_ briefs, love.” She takes the spare pillow from her bed and chucks it at his head.

“Oof!”

“Goodnight, Killian.”

“G-night, Swan. Oh, by the way, you’re anything but a fuck up. I honestly think you’re quite lovely.”

It’s a good thing it’s dark, because she can feel a blush darkening her cheeks. “Thanks,” she whispers.

He falls asleep almost instantly after that. She squints through the darkness to watch his chest rise and fall. Is it possible to become attached to a person after knowing them for mere hours? There’s obviously a good heart behind that innuendo laden exterior, but he protects it. Emma falls asleep with thoughts of Killian Jones and for the first time in years, it’s with a smile on her face.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. Boston Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma suggests taking Killian to Boston as their journey begins. They learn a little more about each other.

The persistent sound of a vibrating phone jerks Emma from a delicious dream starring a handsome dark haired stranger. After slapping her hand around on the tiny nightstand she manages to retrieve the offending device. _Great, it’s mom._ She clears her throat to disguise the remaining vestiges of sleep.

“Hello?”

“Emma, where are you? I’ve been texting all morning. Don’t tell me you’re still in bed at this hour?”

A glance at her phone reveals that it’s 10:30. _Shit! I was more exhausted than I thought. I wonder if Killian- oh, God, Killian._ She peers over to his bed to reveal that her traveling companion is still fast asleep. “Are you alright, sweetie? Ruby called us this morning and told us everything. That no good dirt-bag will hear from us, I promise! Please, just come home.” _Ruby obviously didn't tell them everything._

“I am, mom. I’m on my way right now, it will take me a few days, though.”

“You’re driving? Sweetie, you should’ve flown.”

“I couldn’t leave the bug behind, mom. You know that. This isn’t just a visit, it’s a permanent move.”

“That’s fine, Emma. Your bedroom is waiting. Oh, and your father has his department on full alert after the comments Neal made, you can’t be too careful.” She doesn’t have the energy to fight her mother, but her parents’ home is simply a layover. She fully plans on getting her own place very soon.

“Good idea, mom.”

“When can we expect you?”

“It takes as long as it takes, definitely by next Saturday.” Her mom prattles on about welcome home parties and the new clock tower in town until Emma has to interrupt.

“So, are you going to say what you’re really thinking?”

“What am I thinking?”

“How you were right and I was wrong. How I should’ve stayed in college and I wouldn’t be in this mess. How Neal was truly the douche-nozzle you always knew he was. Let’s get the gloating over with.” Emma hears a snort from the neighboring bed. Killian is now wide awake and on his good side, propped up on one elbow. His hair is alluringly mussed from sleep and her mother's voice is suddenly reduced to background static as he rises from the bed and ties the bed sheet around his waist. Her eyes follow him as he walks into the bathroom kicking the sheet playfully with each step.

“Emma Ruth! You’re not even listening to me.” She shakes her head trying to refocus her attention on her mother and not the half naked man that just entered the bathroom.

“Sorry mom, it’s been a weird twenty-four hours, I need to get back on the road. I’ll call you later, bye!”

“Em-”

She abruptly ends her call and pops out of bed like a piece of toast, throwing on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. She brushes the tangles out of her hair and repacks her duffel. Killian’s clothes are still draped over the chair in the corner and are still very much drenched. She frowns. _He can’t wear these!_ She pulls her blow dryer out of her bag and sits criss cross on the floor desperately willing the garments to dry.

“You don’t have to do that, Swan.” 

“Yes, I do. You can’t wear these,” she insists. He gently extricates the dryer from her hand and switches it off before placing it on the chair.

“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, lass, but you’re not my personal savior. Let me dress and I’ll be on my way.”

“Killian, you can’t wear these in their current state, they’re disgusting!”

“Lass, this blow dry method of yours will take hours.”

“You’re right.” She sighs in defeat. He reaches out to grab his clothing and wrinkles his nose with disgust upon contact. 

“I suppose a bed sheet will have to commit to vogue today. I could wear it like a toga.”

_Think, Emma, think. I guess I could buy him new clothes, but I don’t remember passing any...wait!_ She has an “ah-ha” moment while scanning outside of the motel window. “Killian! I have an idea. Do you see that building across the street?” He stands behind her as she points to a brick building. 

“Hmmm, _Dr. John’s Pleasure Zone_ ? We’ve established that I don’t _need_ a doctor. Besides, by the looks of it, I don’t think this _John_ is exactly a licensed medical professional.”

“Oh God, no! Not the naughty shop! I’m talking about that resale shop.” She redirects his attention to a smaller brick building. “I could pop in and grab you a few things.”

“Swan-”

“No, I insist. You stay here and hang out in your toga. I’ll be right back.”

“But, I have no means of payment.”

“I’m sure a clever man like you will think of something.” She winks at him and it’s his turn to blush. _Stop flirting you hussy._

“I could buy you a whole wardrobe for next to nothing. What size are you?”

“You had a pretty good look at me last night, do you need another to refresh your memory?” He tucks his thumb behind the knotted bedsheet around his waist. She notices his torso has taken on a purple-ish hue this morning, but his eyes aren’t as puffy or as dark.

“No thanks. I’ve seen enough of you to last me awhile.” _Liar._ He sticks out his lower lip in a fake pout. "Sorry, puppy faces don't work on me."

“You really know how to kick a man while he’s down.” As soon as he utters the words, a painful look crosses his features and Emma knows he instantly regrets them. His physical and emotional wounds from yesterday are still too fresh.

“Stop it! Your ego will survive.” She further diverts the conversation. “Oh, I’ll grab you some more shoes, too. Neal’s flip flops hardly fit on your canoes.”

“Douche-nozzle Neal?”

“The one and only.”

“Is he the one you’re running from, lass?” She moves to sit on the end of the bed and he follows suit.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes. I caught him cheating on me during our engagement party.”

“Ah, yes, adulterers. I’ve dated some myself. Betrayal hurts, Swan. I’m sorry.”

“That’s just it, it wasn’t just his betrayal that stung, it was the fact that I was wrong and everyone else was right. I don’t like to be made a fool of and I especially don’t like to admit my mistakes. A part of me oddly felt relief when I saw him with her. I hadn’t been happy with the relationship for years, but I was too damn stubborn to leave. _Annnnd_ I have no fucking clue why I’m telling a stranger this.”

“I’d like to think of us as friends.”

“I’d like that, friends.” They lock gazes and Emma gasps at the sincerity she finds in his eyes. Whatever this man has been through, friends have been all too rare in his life. Once again, Emma has to shake herself from a Killian-induced stupor. “And right now, I have a very naked friend who needs clothing. May I buy you a few items?”

“If the lady insists.” He flourishes his arms out in an exaggerated bow. _Who is this guy?_ “I’ll just wait here. No need to shock the masses.”

“You do that.” She pats his chest twice before gathering her purse and heading across the street to the resale shop. She loves shopping for him and is quite proud of her acquired garments. She drops them off to Killian and turns her key in at the front desk. When she returns, he is standing beside her car. He is wearing black basketball shorts with a white tee that says, _I Hate Mondays._ The expression on his face is likened to a grumpy cat and it makes Emma smile. 

“Awe, you look cute.” She playfully pinches his cheek. _What even are you, Emma? Enough with the touchy feely stuff!_

“It’s dry. That’s all I have to say. You have an impeccable sense of men’s fashion, by the way. I was greatly saddened not to find a pair of Crocs or a puka shell necklace. Perhaps even some CK1?” He tilts his head in contemplation, biting his lower lip.

“Funny. Were you a comedian back in Miami?”

“I was residing near the keys at the time of my departure. And no, not a comedian, I’m a shipwright.” He beams proudly at her.

“A what?”

“I work on ships. I can build them, repair them, even design them.”

“So, you’re a pretty smart guy.”

“I don’t know about smart, but I’m good with my hands.” _I’ll bet you are. And lips and (ahem)._ She is expecting a snarky eyebrow lift, but is met with more sincerity. Their conversation is interrupted by a growl from Killian’s stomach.

“You hungry there, sailor?”

“A little, but I’ll not ask you to feed me.” Emma slings her duffel in the trunk and walks right up to him, standing toe to toe.

“Ok, here’s how this is going to work. I’m taking you to Boston.”

“But Swan-”

“Shut up, Jones. I live in Maine, it’s not super out of my way. Though, I do have three conditions. First, don’t lie to me, ever, or I’ll put you out on your ass. Second, no bitching about me buying you things. You clearly have no money. I won’t ask what happened to you, but realize that I won’t have you performing the pitiful orphan act every time I sit down to eat. Third, we take our time. It’s been a long time since I’ve been single, and I did exactly what _I_ wanted. If I want to stop and take pictures of the world’s biggest fucking ball of wax, we do it. Are you in?”

“Aye, you really are a tough lass. You honestly think you can stand to be in a car with me for twenty hours? My brother Liam used to say that I prattled on just to hear the sound of my own voice.”

“I think I can handle you. Let’s eat.” She gestures toward her car and breathes a sigh of relief when he takes his place in the passenger’s seat.

After a quick lunch at the pancake house around the block, they plot their course northward. Killian proves to be a good navigator and he entertains her with tales from his navy days. He is witty and charming with a dash of sweet hidden underneath. Somewhere in Georgia, they decide to play twenty questions.

“Would you say you’re more like your mother or father?” he asks.

“That’s random. Father, probably. He is the sheriff of my hometown. I landed in bail bonds, so apple/tree and all that. You?”

“I resemble my father and inherited his love of the sea, but I never want to emulate him.”

“May I ask why?” He takes a deep, shaky breath.

“He abandoned us when I was just a boy. Mother died a few years later.”

“Killian, that’s awful! What about your brother?”

“We were sent to live with my aunt in Boston. My cousin, Belle, is the reason I’m going back there. She’s the only family I have left.”

“And Liam?” 

Killian squirms uncomfortably in his seat before squeezing out a curt answer. 

“He passed. It was nearly six months ago.” And just like that another piece to the Killian Jones puzzle snaps into place. Emma struggles to find the right words to express her condolences, but comes up short. How do you tell a person that you’re sorry they’ve been dealt a completely shitty hand in life.

“In the picture, he looked older than you. Lemme guess. Are you the bratty baby brother?” He smiles and nods his head.

“Aye. He was the sensible one. He always had a good head on his shoulders, and an excellent moral compass. I was the more, shall we say, challenging Jones.” 

“A bit of a bad boy, then?”

“You could say that. Trouble always has a way of finding me.” She is dying to ask him about last night, but refuses to push. _All in due time._ She knows that if she ever finds the person responsible for his injuries, they will pay!

They sit in comfortable silence for a long while before her phone chimes. It’s a text from Ruby. With her permission, Killian picks up the phone and reads it.

“Uh, it’s a lass named Ruby. She wants to know how your trip to BoneTown was. Is that in Georgia, love?”

“Shit! Just, here. Give me the phone.” She jerks it from his hands and puts it between her thighs for safe keeping. “I’ll text her later.” She shoots Killian an innocent smile, but his eyes tell her he understood the reference.

“I do have one very personal question if you’ll allow it?”

“Shoot.”

“You always pay in cash.”

“Usually, yes. That’s not a question.”

“Aye, it’s not. I’m connecting some dots. Beautiful girl, early to mid twenties, flush with cash. Are you bail bonds by day, stripper by night?”

“Are you fucking serious? No! I am not a stripper! Do I look like I’d take my clothes off for money?” The bastard waggles his eyebrows at her. “Don’t answer that! I just save cash, that’s all.”

“There’s more, but I won’t pry.” She has no desire to expose more personal tales of woe, but he has shared more than enough with her.

“Fine. Neal usually spent every dime he had. When he ran low, he would sponge from my account. Rather than cause a scene, I started saving back a secret stash, just for me.”

“What an insufferable arse!”

“You have no idea.”

“Why would a brilliant lass like you agree to marry a man like that? You deserve a prince.”

“Ha! I don’t know about that, but at least I can put that part of my life behind me. Now you, _luv,_ definitely look like you’ve stripped before.” He laughs at her poor imitation of his accent.

“Actually, I did once. On a dare, of course.”

“Of course you have.”

“Do you want to hear the tale?”

“No. I’ll pass. I don’t need that mental image.” _Too late._

“Why not, it will add fodder to those naughty dreams like you had last night.” She feels the heat rising to her cheeks and freezes in horror. _What was I doing in my sleep last night? How does this bastard know my every move?_

“I-uh, I, well…” He laughs at her.

“Relax, Swan! I’m only teasing. The pink in your cheeks is lovely, though. _Were_ you dreaming of me last night?”

“No. Why would I?” _Lie. “_ My turn for a question. What has been the best moment of your life?” _No, Emma! What an awful question to pose to an orphan who’s lost everyone._ She notices the shift in his entire demeanor. 

“I’ll have to think about that one, love.” After that, Killian shuts her out and retreats into a quiet contemplative bubble, staring out of the window as they put more miles between them and Florida. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended up being a "filler"chapter, so it's a little shorter.


	4. South Carolina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pair meets up with someone from Killian's past and Emma has to deal with new emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I decided to up the rating as a friend of mine suggested. 
> 
> Forgive my attempt at smut. I read it, but it comes out awkward when I write it. I had it outlined for chapter 6, but it refused to wait it's turn. Sorry not sorry for how I portrayed Tink. In my world, she's always a little harlot! HAHA. 
> 
> Also, yeah, Killian is an emotional hot mess. I promise he'll get his act together. I may have to break my point of view rule and do a chapter from his perspective...

They make it all the way to South Carolina. Emma is stoked to get a picture of the world’s largest peanut in Bluffton. He shakes his head at her, but agrees to a selfie. After being on the road all day, they are in Charleston by dinner time and are desperate to stretch their legs. They secure a nice hotel and agree to grab some food and drinks within walking distance. They find a cozy little pub that Killian has apparently visited a few times before. He is slowly opening up to her again, but she feels dreadful for imposing such a personal question on him.

“You’ll love this place. The burgers are excellent if you're into eating meat,” he says.

“Is that a sexual reference?”

“Not at all, I’m being quite literal.”

“For once…” He leads her inside, placing his hand on the small of her back. They sit at the back of the pub and Emma can’t help but admit how intimate it feels. The food is excellent and she relaxes as she sips her Long Island. Killian's face appears more laid-back as well. 

“Listen love, about our car conversation...” He reaches across the table and places his hand on top of hers. His fingers are rough but warm and she discovers a different warmth settling low in her belly. However, his expression quickly changes from calm, to one of sheer panic. “Bloody hell! Emma, I need your help. There is a petite blonde with a pixie cut headed this way. If she asks, you’re my girlfriend, aye?”

“Ok?” Emma will never admit to the swooping feeling in her gut from the word, _girlfriend._

The blonde bounds up to their table and plops herself straight onto Killian’s lap. “Killy! Oh my God, it’s really you.” She starts to stroke his face and run her fingers through his raven locks. “Shit, what happened to your face, did Robert tie into you again, baby?”

“Of course not. Tink, I want you to meet my g-” She pulls his jaw toward her and Emma slams down her drink with more force than necessary. 

“How long are you in town, Killy? I could really use the company.” She leans in and plants a sloppy wet kiss near his lips and begins whispering in his ear. His face turns beet red with embarrassment. Whatever she’s saying has him nervously scratching behind his ear. 

Emma feels an emotion that is relatively foreign to her-jealousy! Not even when Neal was seducing another woman at her engagement party has she felt the need to scratch out a person’s eyeballs. She doesn’t realize how tightly her hands are clenched until she has the urge to slap this blonde stranger off of her Killian’s lap. _Who the fuck is she?_ She coughs to get their attention.

“Uh, Tink, this is my girlfriend, Emma. Emma, this is an old friend- Kristina Bell. Everyone just calls her Tink.” Tink gives her a passing nod, then returns her attention to Killian.

“Friend? Oh, Killy! When you’ve given a person multiple orgasms, I think it goes beyond friendship.” She leans into him again and starts to nuzzle his jaw. 

_What is she? A fucking cat?!_ Emma isn’t prone to violence, but if she would love nothing more than to put this girl’s hand in a blender. She takes deep breaths and reminds herself that Killian isn’t hers and it doesn’t matter who he sleeps with. She tries to think up something clever to say, but this over the top caricature of a harlot clearly has the upper hand.

“Do you think she’ll join in, Killy? I hope she likes to share.” Tink has the audacity to wink at Emma, and she is officially over the bullshit! She shoots daggers at the pair before pushing back her chair and standing at her full height.

“No, Emma doesn’t fucking share! He can do what he wants with your slutty ass, but I’m going back to the room.” She turns to leave when Tink speaks again.

“Mmmmm, Killy? I think I like Milah better, this one is no fun!” The pixie girl pouts her red painted lips. Emma takes the rest of her drink and becomes a living breathing cliché when she dumps its contents over Tink’s head. She sprints toward the exit, hitting the door at full force. The warm spring air sobers her as she makes her way around the corner. She pulls at her hair when she realizes she left her purse inside. 

_Shit, shit, shit! Way to go, dumbass. What the hell was I thinking?_ She sits on a nearby bench and leans her head on her knees when she feels a gentle touch on her shoulder.

“You left something behind, lass.” She looks up at him. His earnest blue eyes reflect a silent apology.

“Yeah, my dignity.” He chuckles and hands over her purse, holding out his left hand for her to take. She glances at his outstretched fingers but stands without his assistance as they begin their short walk back to the hotel. “What are you doing here? I’m surprised you’re not porking blondie in the restroom right now.”

“You have the strangest terms for intercourse, darling. Porking, bone-town, you’re like a sex thesaurus.”

“Are all of your friends like that?” _Damn him, he’s doing that ear scratch thing. You can’t be endearing when I’m pissed at you._

“Tink is-unusual to say the least. My ex-Milah picked her up at a bar here in Carolina a few years ago. She brought her back to our room for a little fun.”

“I’m sorry, did you say your _ex_ picked her up?” He nervously shoves his hands in his pockets and nods. 

“What the actual fuck?” He wrinkles his nose and holds open the hotel lobby doors for her.

“Yeah, Milah was adventurous. She’d try anything once. That was one hell of a night.” As he speaks, Emma looks at the ground. She knows if she looks at him she’ll either slap him or pull his lips down to meet hers. “I’m so sorry for the discomfort that scene caused you. I haven’t seen Tink in forever.”

“Well, you obviously made an impression there, sailor. Though, I pictured you with better taste in women. She was a bit too accessible if you ask me,” Emma spits bitterly.

“Aye. She’s confident in everything she does.” Emma tries the keycard to their room three times, silently begging to escape this conversation. The bitter sting of jealousy is rising up in her gut again and she can’t push it down any longer. Toxic thoughts of Killian thrusting into that awful woman overtake her higher brain function. He takes the card from her and expertly opens the door on the first try, holding it open so she can walk through. Emma busies herself with menial tasks around the room upon entering. She does anything to avoid making eye contact with Killian. Her heart is beating swiftly and every synapse in her body is ticking with nervous energy. Thankfully, he disappears into the bathroom, offering her a reprieve. 

“I’m going to make a phone call!” she shouts to him. She hears the water from the shower and exhales a deep sigh. Emma digs her phone out of her purse and hunkers in the corner of the room, placing a call to Ruby.

“Emma, my girl!”

“Hey.”

“You sound down. Is riding your stallion not what you thought it would be? I need a picture of him, by the way. What did you say his name was?”

“Killian is fine. I didn’t have sex with him.”

“Well, that explains the dejected tone.”

“I need advice.”

“Honey, I taught you the secret to a blow job long ago.”

“No, not that. I...I just…”

“What?”

“Do you think I’m sexy?”

“Of course, you’re smoking hot! Why? Did your travel companion tell you otherwise?”

“No. I just have the inkling he prefers these sexy confident women. I’m not sexy or confident.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Well, as luck would have it, I got to meet an ex lover of his. She’s petite and perfect and basically a walking wet dream.”

“Oh, hun, I know Neal did a number on you, but not all men are shallow jerks. You have nothing to be insecure about. You do know I was teasing about the whole sex with a stranger thing? I didn’t actually expect you to sleep with him.”

“I know, Rubes.”

“ _Do_ you want to fuck him?”

“No...Maybe...I don’t know...?”

“Okay. Well, you probably need to figure that out first, hun.”

“You’re right. But Ruby, I’ve only known him two days. Isn’t that weird? Who sleeps with someone after knowing them two damn days? Don't answer that! I mean, it would only make things awkward. I’m driving him to Boston for fuck’s sake.”

“You’re taking him to Boston?! He must be pretty special. Send me a pic!” 

“I will when I get a chance.” 

“Oh! In other news, Neal’s dad lost his shit and beat that asshole to a bloody pulp. I _almost_ felt sorry for him.”

“When did this happen?”

“Neal came by earlier looking for you. He looked awful with a broken wrist and busted face.”

“What did he want?”

“He wanted to know where you were, I said you flew to California to stay with a friend you met online.”

“Rubes, there is no possible way he believed that.”

“Hun, you need to watch out for Robert Gold. I truly think he’s capable of murder.” Emma hears the shower shut off. “I’ll feel better when you get home to Maine under the protection of Daddy Nolan.”

“I know, Rubes. That man is pure evil. I need to go, but I’ll call you in a couple of days.”

“Fine. Fine. But, I’m officially endorsing team "make a move" on this Killian, be bold and surprise yourself. What do you have to lose?”

“What if he rejects me?”

“Then he’s obviously gay, because no straight man could turn you down. You’re like a damn fairy tale princess. I’d kill for your legs. Besides, you’re beautiful on the inside, too, I hear that’s a perk.”

“Funny.”

“It’s true. Go get em, girly!” She bids Ruby goodbye, but doesn't rise from her place on the floor. Instead she sits worrying her lip between her teeth as her head does battle with her hormones. A cough pulls her from her contemplation.

“Swan? Are you alright, love?” The look on her face must be one of distress, because she can’t help but notice that he’s approaching her like a wounded animal. She stands to face him for the first time since the pub. _Deep breath, make a move. You can do this!_

“Killian, who’s Robert?”

“Pardon?”

“Tink assumed that a guy named Robert attacked you. Why?” He swallows hard.

“Robert is Milah’s estranged husband. Unbeknownst to me, she was married the entire time we were together. Robert and I came to blows once or twice.”

“I see. You deserve better than these women, Killian.” She boldly reaches out to take his hand. It's rough but warm and she marvels at its masculinity. 

“No. I don’t. But, thanks for the sentiment.” _He truly believes this._

“If I agreed to it, would you have taken us both to bed tonight?”

“Not a chance in hell.”

“Why not?” He pulls her in closer, not dropping her hand until her hips are close enough for his hands to find new purchase. He speaks gentle and low, locking eyes with her.

“Because, Emma. If I ever found myself lucky enough to have you in my bed, I would be disinclined to share you.” She can feel his warm minty breath against her lips and the light squeeze of his fingertips on her waist. _This is it! Claim him, kiss him, fuck him, make him your own. Show him that he deserves better than a damn bar fly._

Emma closes her eyes. Her mind is picturing all of the glorious things she wants to do with him, but that tiny insecure part of her heart is screaming, “Wait!” Her insecurities win out in the end, as she softly pulls away. “I have to shower. I reek of cigarettes and cheap perfume.” She doesn’t look back in fear of seeing rejection on his face.

The shower helps her get a grip on her emotions. She has known this man for two days. Two days! She shouldn’t be feeling like this. Yet, she is inexplicably drawn to him, like a kindred spirit, a moth to a flame. True, he is incredibly handsome and charming. It would be so easy to throw him down and ride him into next week. But, in true Emma fashion, she hesitates and talks herself out of it with a million different excuses. Only later, when they’re both lying in their prospective beds, does she dare to speak to him.

“Killian?”

“Aye?”

“It would really suck being your girlfriend.”

“I’m offended, why would you say that?”

“Nights like this would be a common occurrence.”

“What do you mean? Tink? No, they wouldn’t.”

“I mean, it’s not just Tink. It’s the entire female gender. You’re like God’s little gift to women. They flirt and giggle and you actually encourage them with your little winks and sexy accent.”

“You think my accent is sexy? You have my mum to thank for that.”

“Not the point, Jones. My point is, I don’t know any normal non-threesome loving girlfriend who could handle the constant competition.”

“So, you think me the type of man to cheat on his partner? I’ve never! Besides, I didn't know you were pondering a relationship with me.”

“I assure you I am not! I don't think you are a cheater, per say, but you teeter on the line. You didn’t do anything to push that blonde away.”

“Aye. I also wasn’t prepared to be accosted like that, nor am I actually in a committed relationship at the moment!” _He feels attacked._

“Tink didn’t know that.”

She can hear the shame in his voice as he says, “You’re right about every bit of it.” He continues. “As stated, I’m truly sorry for any discomfort I put you through. I suppose beautiful women are my kryptonite.”

“That’s a lame excuse. You need to raise your standards.”

“Maybe you’re right, but my bedroom skills are a perk.”

“Not enough of a perk to watch another damn woman rub her breasts all over you, Killian Jones!”

“That’s why I stay single. Very few have had the honor of being my girlfriend, but the breasts have been plentiful!”

“Disgusting! So you’re only into one nighters?”

“Why not? A one off is far better than spending a year with someone, only to find out they’re already bloody married!” She has so many questions, but refuses to probe deeper into his past. He must have realized he was shouting, because his next words are intentionally light. “There are definitely perks to a one night stand. Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it!”

“Please. You hide behind them because they’re safe. It’s impossible to get hurt.”

“I’ve filled my quota on hurt, lass. I avoid it at all costs.”

“At least tell me you’re taking the right precautions with all of these women?”

“Aye, _mum._ Absolutely. I never ever get my scromp on without a prophylactic.” _God, I can hear his smirk. Is that even possible?_

“You’re ridiculous. Look, I’m only saying there’s more to relationships than sex, Killian.”

“Agreed. But, having a partner who can bring you to multiple orgasms is perk, wouldn’t you say?”

“Having an orgasm inducing threesome isn’t on my bucket list.”

“Well, maybe it should be.”

“Gross.”

“For the record, I excel in vanilla missionary for women like you.”

“Women like me?” _What the fuck?_

“Yeah. The ones that like to play it safe.” _Bastard!_

“Unbelievable. You don’t know me! Maybe I am an insatiable sex goddess in the sheets?!”

“Hahaha! Love, you have vanilla written all over you.”

Emma sits up in bed to shout at him. _How dare he make assumptions on what I do or don't do in the bedroom. He doesn't know me!_ “As opposed to manwhore written all over _you_!”

“That’s funny, lass. Just admit it, you were jealous tonight.” _Busted._

“Psshht, I don’t get jealous, buddy!” Through the darkness, she can hear the rustling of sheets and knows that he is now sitting on the side of the bed.” 

“Whatever, I know a jealous woman when I see one. The flush of your cheeks will give you away every single time.” He stands and dramatically walks to the corner of the room. “In fact, I’ll prove it. If I turn on this lovely floor lamp, I'll bet I can see your jealousy raging right now. Your cheeks will be flushed all the way to your neck.” He taunts her by wrapping his fingers around the switch. 

She throws back her covers and strides over to him, intending to slap his hand away from the offending light fixture. He beats her to the punch and in an instant the room is filled with a soft amber glow. Even a blind man could see the lust present in his eyes. “Ah, there it is, love. I know you can feel that lovely pink blush adorning your cheeks. It’s the same shade you get when you’re turned on.”

“How would you possibly know that?” He moves to whisper in her ear.

“It’s the same shade you had last night when you were touching yourself and moaning my name.” _Damn it!_ She throws him her most menacing look and points her finger in his face. 

“You stupid, infuriating, son of a…” She never gets to finish her sentence because in a heartbeat Killian is grabbing her waist and pulling her body tightly to his. She can feel every inch of his hardness pressed firmly against her abdomen. _Don’t think, just act!_ Emma fuses their lips together in a bruising kiss. Emma lacks the coherence to form a sentence when his lips part and his tongue collides with hers, so warm and perfect. He tangles one hand in her hair, while the other squeezes her hip. He groans into their kiss and she swears she’s never been this turned on. Desperate to hear that deep rumbling echoing in his chest again, she runs her hands down the back of his boxers and squeezes his backside. She is rewarded with a delicious hum that is a hybrid of a moan and a grunt as her back is pressed roughly against the hotel wall

“Fuck, lass! I was wrong. You are a bloody vixen. There’s nothing vanilla about the way you kiss.” She responds by grabbing the hem of his shirt and lifting, but a painful hiss exits his lips.

“Ouch, careful Swan. A man’s not at his best when he has at least two cracked ribs.”

“Says the man who denied the depth of their injury!”

“Darling, I know they’re bloody broken! It even hurts when I laugh.” She presses the most delicate of kisses to each rib and gently removes his shirt. She bites down hard on her lower lip before resuming her assault on his mouth. The kiss slows and becomes languid before he moves his luscious lips to her neck. She responds by trailing her fingers down his front and inside of his boxers, taking him in hand and squeezing firmly. This time, he releases a pleasurable hiss as she pumps his shaft with her delicate fingers. She takes control, backing him up against her bed until his knees hit, knocking him to a sitting position. He sits there completely fuckstruck as Emma peels every scrap of clothing from her body and straddles his lap. He presses feather light kisses to her collarbone as his hand starts making its journey south. He pauses and whispers. “Do you want me, love? Tell me you want this as much as I do.”

“Yes, Killian. I want you.” Her voice is breathy and beyond recognition. She cards her hands through his hair and guides his mouth to her breasts. She can’t help but throw her head back in ecstasy as he worships her mounds with his tongue. When he bites down on a bud, she can’t help the expletives that spew forth. He chuckles darkly. 

“You have the mouth of a sailor, lass!”

“I've finally found a good use for yours, carry on, Jones!” _That sounded so damn lame!_

He slides his right hand down between her quivering thighs to cup her sex before slipping a finger inside of her. She mewls and his eyes fall shut as a primal growl escapes him. Emma can read his mind and knows what he’s about to say.

“Don’t say it!” _God, he’s absolutely panting._

“Say what?”

“Don’t go all alpha macho male on me and comment on my level of natural lubricant. Yes, I’m fucking soaked. Yes, you caused it. Now take off those ridiculous hot dog boxers and fuck me, already!”

“Aye, lass. I can do that, but you have to say please.”

“ _Please_ fuck me, already!”

“First, I want you to ride my fingers.” He continues on his quest with two fingers this time. The feeling of his warm probing digits coupled with the deliciously naughty things he is doing to her breasts has her spine tingling. When his thumb starts swiping across her clit, Emma is a lost cause. She is shaky and incoherent as she feels that coil tightening. She screams out his name as she climaxes and he gradually brings her down from her high. She clutches his neck for dear life until he lays her boneless body next to him to catch their breath. 

“Are you okay, lass?”

“Are you kidding me? That was fucking incredible!”

“I am world renowned for my oral skills, as well. If you ever want a demonstration, just say the word.” She giggles.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She leans over him and brings her lips to his in a sweet kiss. He cups her cheek and grins. When she pulls herself against his body, he winces.

“Swan, I know you asked me to have sex with you, but bloody buggering fuck, my ribs hurt. I don’t think this is going to work tonight.”

“Well, there’s a specific attachment that didn’t get the memo, pal.” She gestures to his erection.

“Aye. I know. I’ll take care of him, later.”

“What? Why? Killian, I can help you out.”

“S’alright.” With that, he exits the bed and slinks to the bathroom, lightly shutting the door behind him. Emma lays on the cool white sheets, completely bewildered by his actions. She considers going to sleep, but something just feels off. She knocks on the door once before turning the handle and entering. _Not locked._ She finds him leaning over the vanity bracing himself with both hands. His face is blotchy and his beautiful blue eyes are red with tears.

“Are you okay, Killian?”

“Aye, love. It just hurts.”

“Your ribs?”

“Everything.”

Never in her life has Emma felt so helpless than she is staring into the eyes of this broken man. He reminds her of that shoeless hitchhiker from last night. No swagger, no innuendos, just sorrow. He allows her to enter the space between him and the vanity. She can think of no comforting words, so she stands on her tiptoes and wraps her arms around his neck. He feels absolutely perfect in her arms---tall, solid, and safe. She presses her nose to his pulse point and he shivers. She closes her eyes and breathes him in. _God, he smells good._ They stand there in silence for several minutes before she pulls back to look at him. 

“We’re naked, lass.”

“Why yes, it appears we are...sailor.”

“I’m sor-”

“No,” she interrupts. You have nothing to apologize for. When you’re ready to talk, I’m here for you. Until then…” She starts placing soft kisses on his chest as he releases a shaky breath. She works her way south and can feel his manhood stir to life again. “...let me make you feel good?”

“You don’t have to lo-” The words are lost as she wraps her lips around his cock. She looks up at him with what she hopes is a seductive grin.

“Don’t think, Killian. Your troubles can be dealt with tomorrow. Tonight, just focus on fucking my mouth.” His eyes roll shut as she begins sucking his tip and pumping his shaft simultaneously. 

“Emma,” he says with a strangled plea. “Don’t stop, that feels so fucking amazing!” She knows he’s on the precipice of exploding and she’s desperate to be the one that pushes him over the edge. She takes him in deeper and swallows around him, surprised when he abruptly pulls away.

“No, lass,” he wheezes out between pants. “I want to be inside of you. Would you allow me to take you from behind? I’m desperate to feel your warm wet quim wrapped around my cock. Please. I need you so damn much.” _He sounds completely wrecked with his ardent pleas._ Emma spins around without question and leans her forearms on the vanity. She’s enamored with the expression on his face reflected through the mirror in front of her. She watches as the blue of his eyes darken when he grabs her hips and pushes into her. Even Emma has to admit how damn sexy she looks and how breathtaking they look together. When blue meets green through the reflection of the tempered glass, she realizes he must have the same thought. Each thrust hits its mark and Emma bites her tongue to keep from waking their neighbors.

“Swan, this isn’t my best performance. I can feel you’re close, but I don’t think I can hold on much longer.”

“Then don’t Killian, come for me.”

“‘Tis bad form, love.”

“I don’t give a shit about bad form, I want to feel you pulsing inside of me right fucking now, Killian!” Her filthy mouth has the desired effect, because three thrusts later and his seed is running down the inside of her thighs. He pulls out and wets a washcloth for her. He presses a soft kiss to her temple and leaves her in peace to clean up. She looks at her reflection. Her hair is a train-wreck, her cheeks are bright red, and there’s a delightful ache inside of her from being stretched to accommodate Killian’s size. She splashes water on her face and smiles. _One night stand, my ass! I’m doing that, again!_

  
  
  
  



	5. South Carolina part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma and Killian discover some commonality in their pasts and their friendship is challenged by insecurities.

Upon Emma’s insistence, they agree to relax and spend the day in Charleston. She tells herself that she wants to see the sights and breathe in history. _Yeah, that’s the reason._ She plops cross legged on the bed and thumbs through the room’s travel brochures as he dresses.

“Ghost tours! Killian! They have carriage ride ghost tours! Hell, yes!”

“You do know ghosts aren’t real, right? It’s just a money ploy to hook tourists.”

“Lucky for them, I’m a hooked tourist.” She playfully sticks her tongue out at him, but he laughs and shakes his head.

“Your heart’s desire, Swan. If you want it, it shall be yours.” He presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Now, lucky for me, there’s a free continental breakfast that I’m partaking of. I am famished. Are you coming?” She tosses the key card to him.

“Go ahead, I’ll be down in a minute. Save me a seat?”

“Aye.”

Emma pulls out her phone and scrolls through her photos, looking for one to send to Ruby. She grimaces as she deletes hundreds of pictures of Neal, but it's liberating to wipe her slate clean. She finds one of Killian quirking an eyebrow at her and wearing a goofy grin. Her finger hovers over the photo. _This is the one._ She smiles before pushing send. A minute later she receives a message that says,

_Hot! I want him! :P_

_No way, get your own. This one is mine._

Deep down she knows he’s not hers, not really. She’s content to live in the moment and enjoy his company while he’s here, though. They haven’t discussed their dalliance yet, but they need to. Things were slightly awkward last night as they retreated to their separate beds, but they woke up this morning refreshed and ready to face the day. _Maybe he’d be up for a King sized bed next time? Maybe a hot tub in the room?_ She was quickly depleting her cash, but she has the emergency credit card her father gave her. Like magic, as she thinks of her father, Daddy Nolan’s face appears on her phone.

“Daddy!”

“Hi sweetheart. Where are you?”

“South Carolina. I’ve been staying in hotels because I hate driving at night.”

“Fine. Fine. Take your time. I’m calling because I have some bad news.”

“News?” _Shit, when dad has news, it's rarely good._

“Tamara Jacobs has gone missing.” _Tamara, I don't know a...wait!_

“What?! As in _fiancé stealing_ Tamara?” _Son of a bitch!_

“Yes. She was last seen the night of your engagement party. She failed to report to work the next day. Have you spoken with Neal?”

“No. I blocked him. Ruby told him I was going to California.”

“That’s a terrible lie.”

“That’s what I said!”

“Emma, her parents and the authorities suspect foul play.” Her heart leaps up in her throat. She feels awful for Tamara’s family and shivers when she contemplates what could’ve been if she hadn’t caught them together. 

“Neal’s dad?”

“That’s my thought, sweetie, but they can't prove much yet. Listen, I’d feel better if you weren’t traveling alone. Why don’t you let me-” _No, no, no._

“I’m not alone. I have a friend from Miami with me.” _That has gorgeous eyes and a body made for sin._

“Oh, your mother didn’t mention that. Who is she?”

“It’s a he,” she mumbles.

“Emma Ruth,” he scolds in a dad voice.

“It’s not what you think, dad. He’s just a good guy who needs a ride.”

“Uh-huh. What’s his name?”

“I’m not telling you that! You’ll do a background check on him! Believe me, daddy. I’m totally safe. I trust him.” Emma places a serious tone to her words for a solid reassurance of her safety. 

“Just promise to keep checking in with us daily. I’ll keep you updated on the situation at hand.”

“Yeah. yeah. Bye. Dad.”

“I’ll tell Graham you said hello.”

“No! Don’t you dare!”

“He’s looking forward to your arrival.” _I'll bet he is..._

“You and mom need not concern yourselves with my love life.”

“I won’t push. Have a good day my girl."

She decides not to involve Killian in Neal drama, as he has more than enough drama to deal with all on his own. She joins him downstairs, but _(as always)_ there is a woman breathing all over him while he’s trying to pour himself some coffee. Oddly enough, he doesn’t flirt back. In fact, he brushes her off and walks away to take a seat. When he sees Emma standing in the entryway, she swears his face lights up. _So handsome._

“So, sailor, aren’t ya getting your flirt on a little early?” He blushes.

“Not in the least.” He kisses the back of her hand in a sweet manner. _For someone anti-relationship, he’s surprisingly domestic._ “Go grab some food, love.”

She fills her plate and joins him at the table and watches as he wolfs down his pancakes.

“You always eat so quickly, Jones. Slow down.” _He must spend a fortune in antacids._

“Gotta eat while it’s here. Food doesn’t always come so easily.”

“God, please don’t tell me you went hungry as a child.” Her heart aches painfully as she pictures a sweet little dark haired boy with an empty stomach. _Their children would never go without! Wait, what? Slow down, psycho!_

“Child, adolescent, adult. I’ve always been a bloke of limited means.”

“You must think I’m a spoiled brat!”

“Never. On the contrary, I think you have a huge heart. You’ve shared your time, vehicle, money, _(cough)_ body.”

“Way to slip that in there, pal.” He smiles. “And don’t say what you’re thinking.”

“Fine.” She twirls her hair as he fidgets with his fork.

“About last night…” they begin in unison.

“Ladies, first,” he insists.

“I took advantage of you last night. I’m sorry. It was too soon, I barely know you...” She nervously drums her fingers against the table.

“Advantage? Gods no! I’m the idiot who didn’t take any precautions. I’m clean, I swear it, but do we need to get you that morning after thingy?” She giggles at a grown man using the word, “thingy.”

“No, Killian. It’s fine. I’m covered.” He nods and sighs in relief. “How are your ribs?” she asks.

“Sore. I think I overdid it a bit.” He winks (blinks) at her. She can't help but roll her eyes at him.

“Next time, I’ll be gentle with you.”

“You _want_ a next time?” His eyebrows jump to his hairline in surprise.

“Well, I, er…”

“It's okay to want more, Emma. Especially when it's with a dashing rapscallion like me-self. I owe you an apology for flaking out, though. I’m still raw from my brother’s death and at times my emotions tend to overwhelm me. Alcohol always worsens it."

“That’s understandable.” She reaches across the table to make contact with his fingers and interlace them. They're warm and strong, just like last night. She flashes back to the way they felt moving inside of her and feels a pleasant warmth grow within her.

“So, we’re good?” She startles and nods, smiling her sweetest smile at him as he rubs circles with his thumb on the back of her hand. “I do have one request, if you’ll allow it, Swan.”

“Sure.” _Anything you desire, Killian. You want the moon, it's yours. You deserve it._

“Can we stop somewhere and get me some real clothing?” Emma throws a faux serious look at him as she places her hands on her hips.

“Now _Killy_ , that _No Fear_ shirt is in great condition. I put down a pair of overalls to get you that shirt.” 

“You’re incorrigible, you know that?” They share a laugh and eat in content silence. He brings his coffee to his lips, blowing lightly across the rim of the Styrofoam cup. "Seriously, lass, I want you to know that I fully intend to pay you back. I’m keeping a running total.”

“Well, just make sure you throw in that second orgasm you owe me,” she boldly mutters. Her comment is so casual, it has Killian spewing his coffee out all over his shirt and the table in front of him. Loud coughs and sputters have nearby patrons looking at him in concern.

“You can’t say that word in public,” he chokes out. “Now, I _have_ to get a new shirt, because this one is ruined. Come on you little vixen, let’s explore the town before you can scandalize me even more."

They leave together hand in hand, ready to take on the world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two shopping centers, a visit to the harbor, and two museums later, the travelers are dead on their feet. They prop up in bed for the evening to eat pizza and drink beer.

“Thanks for being a good sport about exploring today. I drug you all over this town.” _And enjoyed every minute._

“Aye, you did. But, I got to upgrade my wardrobe, so I was happy to oblige your whimsies. I do think the tour guide lass at the plantation had a crush on me.” He beams proudly as if it's a great accomplishment.

“Her name was Gloria and she was like 70!” She playfully slaps his shoulder and snuggles in closer to him.

“It’s not too late for your ghost tour, love.” He eyes are drooping even as he speaks the words, but she knows he'd go if she asked him.

“Eh, maybe at our next stop. I was thinking about Virginia Beach.”

“Blimey! Is every coastal town bloody haunted, what are the odds?” He scratches his head.

“You’re really not a believer, huh?”

“Nope. If ghosts were real, my brother would be up my arse and constantly berating my decision-making.”

“Killian?”

“Hmmm?” _His eyes are closed, Emma. Let him be. Don't ask him._

“What happened to your brother?” _Uh, you are incapable of shutting your mouth._

“Boating accident." He pauses to take a deep breath. "I’m afraid it’s all my fault, too.” She detects no lies in his words, but refuses to believe him responsible.

“How?” He lays on his good side to face her.

“Well, Liam and I weren’t on the best of terms at the time of his passing. He disapproved of the lifestyle I was leading. Then again, I always fell short of his expectations.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“It is. You see, I was barely twenty-one when I met Milah. After things fell apart with her, I went to a dark, alcohol induced place. It was a different girl and a different bottle every single night. Liam was the one who pulled me out of it. He got me cleaned up and helped me enlist in the navy. Things were good for a few years. Then, low and behold, she comes strolling back into my life. She swore she was leaving her husband for good and that she loved only me. I refused.”

“Good for you!”

“Let me finish before you applaud me. I refused at first. I had a good life. I was learning more and more about ships and I genuinely loved the navy. Until one day, when I fucked up my naval career. I found myself right back where I started so I figured, “why not.” Like a bloody fool, I took her back and she threw me into that party lifestyle yet again. Only this time, she was into some things that were out of my comfort zone both morally...and sexually."

“Like Tink?” She can barely say her name without wincing.

“‘Fraid so.”

“Oh, what did Liam say?”

“My brother was fucking furious with me! Told me what a worthless git I was and that she was no better than a common whore. I punched him in the jaw the night he told me that.”

“Lemme guess, he was right.”

“Yes. A week or so later Milah’s husband walks in on us and beats me to a pulp. He gives her an ultimatum- him or me. She chose him. I’m lying on the ground bleeding out and she does nothing. He hits me over and over until they both walk away and I black out."

“Oh my God!” _I would've chosen you, Jones._

“Can’t say I blame her though. He had money and power. I was...am a penniless manchild with a penchant for trouble. I went on a binger for three days and nights. The third night I got a call that Liam had died during a sailing trip. Freak accident is what they called it.” Emma fights back tears as she sees the brokenness in his eyes.

“It’s not your fault, Killian. I swear it’s not. Don’t carry this guilt around with you.” She pauses to cup his scruffy jaw. “And for fuck’s sake, enroll in some self defense classes, already!” Killian starts to chuckle and that chuckle evolves into an outright fit of laughter. Soon, they are both gut laughing so hard they can’t breathe. The laughter has him clutching his ribs in agony until his breathing returns to normal.

“Emma? You know that question you asked me in the car?” She nods. _Of course I do._ “I don’t think I’ve had the best moment of my life yet, but you make me believe that good moments are possible.” Her heart flutters.

“Well good, the next step is helping you see that you’re a good man. A flawed one, but one of the good ones.”

“Woah, woah-woah, woah. Baby steps, lass. After all, you’re the one who said I’d make a bad boyfriend.” _Touché._

“I didn’t mean it. It was the jealousy talking. You have to know that.” He runs his hands through his hair and bites his lower lip in contemplation.

“It must be true, or Milah wouldn’t have left me for Robert Fucking Gold,” he mutters to himself.

“What did you just say?” All good feelings are gone as her blood runs cold and a wave of nausea rushes over her. _It can’t be! No! No! No!_

“Milah wou-”

“No. The name. Did you say Robert Gold?”

“Aye.” Emma claps her hands over her mouth. _Neal’s dad. Which means…_

“I’m going to be sick!”

“Huh?” She makes it to the bathroom in time for her pizza and beer to make a reappearance. He is there to hold back her hair and whisper soothing words. “You’re scaring me, Swan.” 

“I know Robert Gold!” Her throat is raw as she pushes the bitter words out and props herself against the bathroom wall.

“How?”

“He’s a- he’s Neal’s father. But, Neal was born out of wedlock, so he has his mother’s maiden name…”

“Cassidy. Milah’s maiden name was Cassidy. Bloody hell!” He places his head in his hands and slides down the wall to join her.

“Do you know what this means? You’ve been with my ex boyfriend’s mother. You dated a woman old enough to _be_ your damn mother.” His expression turns serious. _Offended._

“Age makes no difference to me, lass. One can’t help who they develop feelings for.” She knows it’s illogical to harbor ill feelings about something neither of them can control, but she refuses to make eye contact with him. Dammit, she can never seem to escape Neal’s psychotic family! The one great thing in her life right now is intrinsically linked with them, too. It’s more than her nerves can handle.

“Don’t you get it, Jones? You’ve entered the same trench that my ex was squeezed out of!” She fights off another wave of nausea. _Damn these nerves._

“Love, that’s an absolutely grotesque way to word that!” He wrinkles his nose as if he is a bit queasy as well.

“But it’s true! God! I’m such an idiot. I should’ve put the pieces together long ago. Milah Gold. What a bitch! I met her a few times, you know. She went by the name Millie.” _And she's had you, which makes me hate her even more._

“That’s odd, I’m not familiar with that nickname.” She leans her head against the bathroom wall and looks at the ceiling.

“Neal didn’t talk about her much. When he introduced me to them, she told me that Neal deserved someone more “refined.” She wrinkles her nose at the memory. She should've punched her!

“That sounds like her.” 

“Neal also said his parents never got along. Mill, er, Milah would always have a side guy. I never dreamed I’d have a go with her leftovers.” Killian’s face falls. She knows her comment crushes him.

“Are they still together?”

“As far as I know she recently filed for divorce, but it’s not official yet. She’s taking half of what he’s worth. That’s why Neal needs to marry into a wealthy family.” 

“I'll believe it when I see it." He suddenly jerks his head up from its resting spot on his knees. "So, what are you, some kind of heiress?” _Shit! This isn’t good. Tell him the truth, he deserves the truth._

“Of a sorts. My parents are pretty well off,” she timidly admits.

“Define _well off...t_ housands, hundreds of thousands?” She closes her eyes briefly to open them yet again to meet his gaze.

“Millions,” she whispers.

“Excuse me? Did you say millions?!” The look on his face is one of complete shock.

“Yeah,” she shyly answers.

“Of course, I should've known I’m just a charity case. Perfect.” His jaw ticks as he stands and braces himself against the sink, failing to hide his disappointment and fear of inferiority.

“Killian, you are not a charity case! How can you say that?" She stands behind him and wraps her arms around his waist.

“Whatever. I’m out of my league here. I’ve shared stories with you that I’ve never told anyone. I thought you understood me.” His head slumps, refusing to even look at himself through the mirror. Emma soothingly rubs her palms across the expanse of his back,

“I do understand you.”

“How? You’re just another rich girl slumming it with a poor schmuck. That is, until you meet a pompous little rich boy to enter into a “sensible” marriage with and pop out 2.5 children!” _Ouch!_ She steps away from him.

“That’s not me at all, you know me!” she screams in defense.

“I thought I did. Now, I know I’m no better than a community service project.” He gathers enough courage to spin and face her. "At least the money you spend on me can be used as a tax write off!"

“You are so much more, Killian! Your...you...I…” He mockingly pats her head and exits the bathroom. This action ignites a spark of anger and she stomps after him. "I'm not a fucking dog Jones, man up and talk to me!"

“Emma, thank you for reminding me why I don’t do feelings! I appreciate the ride, but I can take it from here. If you need me, I’ll be at the hotel bar. Maybe a lass will buy me a drink before I’m back on the road. Have a nice life.” He rushes out, leaving her in tears. She can handle words spoken in anger, but the defeated tone in his voice crushes her. _It can't end like this._

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be Killian's point of view...


	6. Moving Froward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killian is tempted to participate in a one night stand. He and Emma reach a decision regarding their future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is told from Killian's POV. As a reader, these usually give me whiplash, but I felt this was necessary. The rest of the story will be Emma's POV. Warning (in my best pirate voice): Thar be more smut ahead!

_Killian Jones, you are a selfish prat! You don’t deserve to be happy._ He berates himself with every step he takes toward the hotel lobby and away from Emma Nolan. Self preservation has been a way of life for him for so long, he’s forgotten how to fully place his trust in someone other than himself. Yet, his tender heart clenches with guilt from leaving her in tears. Deep down he knows it is far better that he cut his losses now, than to endure his battered heart being crushed, yet again, when she inevitably walks away from him. “You were in too deep, Jones,” he tells himself as he approaches the bar. _You can’t take a chance you are wrong about her._ He finds the empty hotel bar and perches upon the nearest barstool. The bartender immediately sashays up to him. _A busty brunette, perfect. Game on!_

“What’ll it be, handsome?”

“I’ll have a finger of rum.” He pretends to look for his wallet. “Blimey! I’ll be right back, love, I left my wallet in the room.” He slides partially off the stool, but a manicured hand with blood red nails stops him.

“No worries, I’ve got it!” She winks at him. _Too easy, Jones. You’ve got this one!_

“What’s your name?” She places an empty shot glass in front of him and leans both elbows on the counter.

“James, what’s yours?” _Bloody hell! You’re lying about your identity now!_

“Jacqueline. You can call me Jack.”

“Nice to meet you, Jack.” In gentlemanly fashion, he reaches out to shake her hand. She’s surprised by the gesture, but lightly takes his palm in hers.

“James, it’s a little dead in here tonight. Could I interest you in doing some tequila shots with me, instead?”

“Aye. I do have to warn you though, I’m known to make bad decisions on tequila. I usually find myself naked and on my back.” _You’re a right git. Go back upstairs to Emma!_

“That’s the plan,” she purrs. They both down their shots. The familiar burn of liquor hits his throat and his only thought is how much he’d enjoy doing shots with Emma, instead. He can imagine the face she’d make with the sour of the lemon and can practically taste the tequila on her soft, warm tongue. A voice decidedly not Emma’s, cuts through his daydream.

“Healing broken hearts is my specialty, ya know.” She trails a long red nail up and down his forearm.

“What makes you think _I_ have one?” He removes her hand from his arm and places it flat on the bar. He pats it twice before completely pulling away.

“Please, honey. You have that lost look about you. I can take you upstairs later and make you forget her. You in?” _No. No. No._

“I’m in.” The words leave his lips, but they lack conviction. A few months ago, hell, a few days ago, he would already have this woman pressed against the bar. Now, there is a flicker of light deep down in his heart telling him that this is wrong.

“Tell you what. There’s a public pier right outside to the right. I’m getting ready to close up, I’ll meet you there in half an hour. Deal?” She throws a cleaning cloth over her right shoulder and leans on the bar with her elbows, giving him an excellent view of her breasts. _One night won’t kill you, Jones. A quick romp might clear your mind._

“Aye.” He kisses the back of her hand, but it doesn't leave that flippy feeling in his stomach the way kissing Emma’s hand does.

His feet carry him all the way to the ocean and he sighs in relief as soon as they touch the wooden planks of the pier. He walks farther than he originally intended and stares out into the endless blackness of the sea. He unceremoniously plops down onto the planks and a curse passes his lips as his body makes contact with the hard surface. _It’s not the first cracked rib you’ve had, suck it up. You’re weak, just like father always said._ “Just like _they_ said,” he mutters. Flashes of heavy boots making contact with his abdomen fill his mind, and he shivers to shake the thought. The moment he was attacked, he was certain he’d be joining Liam in the afterlife. Alas, he survived. He always survives. He removes his shoes and runs his fingers down to the sole of his foot. The cuts are starting to scab over, and it’s getting much easier to walk. Traveling barefoot down a highway was not his brightest idea. Thank God Emma found him. _Emma. My own personal savior. She is_ _the embodiment of everything good, and light, and pure. How do you repay her? By blowing up and walking out at the first sign of crisis. She can’t help the circumstances she was born into no more than I can. Perhaps I’m more like the old man than I realize._

How Emma could ever look at him and call him a good man was bewildering. Killian Jones was a man of many vices. He drank too much, cursed a little too often, and indulged in way too many one-nighters. This was not to mention the terrible decision making. Despite all of these traits, Killian’s biggest flaw was perhaps that he loved too fiercely. Countless times, during his nearly three decades of existence, he wished to trade in his big loving heart for his father’s cold calculating one. Thus, he made a career out of fortifying a wall around that heart of his, vowing never to let anyone penetrate its walls. And for the most part, he didn’t. But, that blonde vixen who by now was surely sleeping peacefully upstairs, was pushing his resolve. His mother always told him to “do the right thing.” What would that be in this instance? Does he walk away peacefully into the night and not involve her in the shit show of a life he’s led so far. That seems honorable...or perhaps the right thing is to walk upstairs, pull Emma into his arms, apologize, and make love to her. _That seems selfish._ But, Killian knows himself far too well, he is selfish! She has wormed her way into his heart and he is a lost cause. The thought of her waking up alone and hurting is enough to convince him to stay. He runs his fingers through his hair, pulling lightly on the dark strands.

“Nice job, Jones. You’ve gone and done it.”

“Done what, sailor?” He recognizes the voice immediately and freezes. He turns to see its owner. She is wearing slippers with sleep pants and a tank top. Her hair is blowing around her tear soaked face and he swears he never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

“How did you find me?”

“The bartender, she saw me wandering around and said you were out here waiting for me.” _Well played, Jack. How on earth did she know?_ She sits next to him on the pier.

“Kill-” He hold up his hand.

“Shush, shush, shush, don’t talk. Just sit with me.” And sit they do, for exactly 5.5 seconds.

“You really love the water, don’t you?” she interjects.

“Are you capable of just sitting in silence, lass?” he teases. “And yes, very much so.”

“Are you still angry?” She’s wringing her hands in her lap and the sight of her worrying over an idiot like him seems unfair. He touches his right hand on top of hers and the warmth he’s been searching for immediately flows through him. _How does that happen?_

“Not at you, never at you. At myself...always.” He squeezes her digits in reassurance.

“Are you still leaving?” _She actually wants you to stay. Don’t you dare walk away from her!_

“I probably should. We’d both be better off. I wouldn’t remind you of your past and you wouldn’t remind me of what a complete and total loser I am.”

“You’re anything but a loser, Killian. I can see how deeply you feel things. The swaggering playboy routine isn’t you, it’s a mask to cover all of the hurt. I get that-”

“You don’t _get it,_ Emma. You don’t get me because you’ve never wanted for anything in your entire life. You’ve never gone to bed with an empty stomach or been evicted from your home. You didn’t have to sit around and watch your mother die of cancer because she couldn’t afford the treatments and provide for her boys at the same time! You didn’t have a father who drank like a fish and crippled his family with gambling debts. You didn’t...didn’t…” She cradles his head as his words turn into choked sobs. No one has held him like this since his mother. She moves his head into her lap and strokes his hair as he allows the dam to break. She sits there, stroking his hair and humming to him. When he finally calms, he looks up at her sweet face. _My savior, my Swan._ “I’m glad you don’t understand what any of that feels like, love.” _No one should._

“It sucks and it’s painful, but it’s your past and you can’t change one bit of it, no matter how badly you may want to. Look, I owe you an apology for overreacting about Milah. I just don’t like that you’re connected to that fucked up family.” He returns to a sitting position, hiding the wince from rising a bit too quickly.

“I get that." He tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You’re right about the past. I would change a few things if I could, including her.”

“I know,” she says. Sadness is evident in her tone and he wonders if this is the end of their friendship.

“Swan, can we get past this, or is it over? I really don’t wish to share a ride with a sweaty truck driver. Besides, you smell quite lovely and I quite enjoy the way you kiss.” She smiles a big bright smile and his insides turn to mush.

“So, you wanna start over, sailor?” He rises from the pier and wipes his eyes with his shirt. He reaches for her in a delicate grip and pulls her up from the damp planks.

“Sure.” He sticks out his hand and slips into character. “Hi, I’m Killian Jones. I’ve led a shitty life, oh, and I've porked your ex boyfriend’s mom.” She smirks at him, but takes his hand.

“Hi, I’m Emma Nolan, I’ve led a spoiled life and I’ve been with my intended mother-in-law's former lover _and_ her son.” They shake on it and she pulls her hand away to place it over his heart. “Though, if I could’ve had the lover first, I wouldn’t have touched the son.” His heart swells with pride as he steps closer to her. “You like the way I kiss?” she huskily asks him.

“Aye. Very much so,” he whispers back. She leans forward to connect their lips, but he stops her.

“Swan, do you swear to me that this isn’t a game? That you’re not just toying with me for your own amusement.” _Don’t hurt me!_

“Killian, look at me.” She cups his face and pulls his forehead to hers. “I would never ever play you like that. While it’s true that I’ve never gone without, I know what it’s like to be used.” He swallows thickly. _There’s no coming back from this. From her._

“I’m terrified of you, love.” He bravely admits.

“Why? I’m harmless.”

“It has taken a lifetime to build this emotional barrier of mine and you have nearly obliterated it in three days' time. That scares me shitless.” _She surely has to feel me trembling beneath her touch._

“Killian, I’m going to show you what scary really looks like if you don’t kiss me soon.” He laughs and pulls her lips to his. The kiss is slow and thorough and it sparks something deep in his being. He decides to let her in, removing the thin veil surrounding his heart, no longer muting his emotions. Even Milah never got to see his full vulnerability; always hiding behind self assured hubris. For the the first time, he doesn’t hold back with a woman as he pours every ounce of his desire and longing into every stroke of his tongue and press of his lips. _By the Gods, I'll give her all I have._ She must feel the shift, because she gasps and pulls back slightly.

“Holy shit! Who taught you how to kiss like that? That mouth of yours should come with a warning label!” He is breathless and dizzy as he traces the shell of her ear with his tongue and nibbles on her lobe.

“I desperately want to take you inside and worship every inch of your body. I didn’t get a chance to taste you last night.” Emma’s eyes uncomfortably dart around.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that-I know it’s unpleasant.”

“Unpleasant? Darling, there are few sexier things than tasting a woman’s essence.” His nibbles proceed down the expanse of her neck.

“I’m just not that into it.” He stops. _What?!_

“Not into it?! What kind of chaps have you been with that refuse to tongue you into oblivion?”

“Just two in total, I’ll have you know, and it’s just weird. I get this-this crazy mental block or something.”

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself. “Darling, you can’t say things like that to me and expect me not to take action. I’m getting dressed and heading back to the room for a shower. I cordially invite you to join me. I’m going to wash the salt from my body, then I’m going to tongue fuck so thoroughly you won’t be able to look at another man without picturing my head between your thighs.” Even in the darkness he can see her pupils dilate and her skin pebble with goosebumps. After a breathy "okay" from her, he firmly kisses her lips. He can feel a different energy pulsing between them, as if the earth has shifted on its axis. They start out innocently enough, but one kiss turns into two, which turns into Killian running his hands up the back of her tank and biting down on a taut peak through the thin cotton. Emma, in turn, decides to grab his cock through the outside of his shorts and whisper absolutely naughty things about the places she desires to place it. By the time they enter the hotel lobby, they are like two hormone idled teens after prom. The way she squeezes his ass goes far beyond what is acceptable in public and the way he’s sucking on her pulse point makes him look vampiric. He sees Jack at the bar and pulls away to motion Emma to continue ahead. She does so after another sloppy wet kiss to his lips.

“Hey handsome. What did you find out there?” From the good natured laugh she gives him, he realizes he must look positively disheveled. 

“I owe you a thanks, Jack.” She’s cleaning the last glass as she motions him over.

“Yeah, yeah. She loves you, ya know.” She teasingly wags her eyebrows at him.

“I don’t know about that, we’ve only known each other for three days.”

“Hmmm, could’ve fooled me, handsome. She was a broken mess out looking for you. Sometimes three days is all it takes. Fair warning though, a few more days and you’ll both be in so deep, there will be no return.” He scoffs. “Mark my words, _Killian.” Bloody hell, she knows my name and that I lied to her._

“Sorry about the James thing, love.”

“Don’t be. I’m just glad I could help. I told you broken hearts were my specialty.” She winks and retrieves her purse.

“Were you ever really going to join me?” She walks past him and pats his chest.

“You’ll never know. Now go get your girl!”

“Aye.” He turns to speed walk to the elevator.

“Oh, and Killian!” He turns to her. “Invite me to the wedding one day.”

“Three days, Jack. It’s been three days.” She laughs again.

“Go! You idiot! Never leave a woman waiting!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When he arrives at the room he knocks twice before she answers the door. She’s clad in her robe smelling of lavender soap and fresh shampoo. She greets him with a soft kiss and he tastes the tingly mint on his lips. She tries to deepen it, but he pulls away.

“Ah, ah, ah, I want an equal playing field, lass. It’s my turn to shower.” She pouts. 

“I’ll be right out. I just need a moment.” _Or three. Bloody hell, what has this woman done to me?_

“Fine. I’ll just have to get a head start, sailor.” He runs into the bathroom and turns on the shower. He brushes his teeth while the water warms up. He washes himself at a breakneck pace and can feel himself growing harder by the minute. He touches himself at the thought of Emma writhing beneath him. He emerges from the world’s fastest shower to find her splayed out on the bedsheets with her fingers buried inside of her. “Killian,” she moans. _You’re right Jack, it’s already too late for me!_ He sees her shiver as he climbs beneath the sheets. His heart beats so loudly, he hopes she can’t hear it. He clutches his now impossibly hard cock and squeezes, trying to quell his lust long enough to focus on the task ahead. He brings up a hand and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“You, Emma, are a tease.” He gently removes her hand from her heat and places two digits in his mouth, licking them clean and releasing them with a pop. “Mmmm, now that I’ve had a taste, I desperately want to feast from you at your source. Would you allow me to make you feel good? If at any time you want me to stop, just say the word.”

“Like a safe word?”

“Emma, this is oral sex, not BDSM. Just tell me to bugger off.” She nods as he hovers closer to her body and kisses the tip of her nose. “I need your answer, love.”

“Yes. Killian, fuck, we’re past the point of verbal permission.” He dips his head down to kiss her. When he makes contact, she runs her fingers through his hair and tugs. _Don’t lose your shit. Keep it together._ Her nails drag down his shoulders and back and he instinctively thrusts forward, dragging his erection through her folds. She makes an erotic moan and he is tempted to call the whole thing off and plunge himself inside of her over and over. She must have the same idea as she reaches for his cock.

“I can’t wait, Killian. I need you moving inside of me. Just fuck me, please.” She makes her point by wrapping her legs around his waist and bringing him to her entrance. He almost allows her to proceed.

“Wait, Swan. I said I would taste you, first. Rule number one, lass, was never to lie to you.”

“Well, surely there are extenuating circumstances.”

“Nope,” he says, popping the “p.” He slides down so he’s eye level with her navel and places warm, wet kisses to her stomach. He makes a mental note of a ticklish place on her right side and continues on to each of her inner thighs. It’s difficult to ignore the nervous shaking within her, so he returns to her lips, placing a feather light peck against them.

“It’s okay, Swan. We don’t have to do this. I’ll slow down.”

“I’m just a little nervous. Geez, I’m behaving like a stupid virgin, sorry.”

“Why on earth would you be sorry?” He nips at her pulse point and brings his mouth down to her breasts, leaving long wet kisses upon them. She relaxes in his arms and exhales a breathy whisper that resembles his name. He takes himself in hand and drags it through her wetness.

“Yes, Killian, yes. That’s what I want. Please.” _She has no idea what’s in store for her._ His thumb replaces his cock, as he repeatedly presses firm circles to her clit. When she begins thrusting her hips against his thumb, he quickly scoots down and licks a long stripe up length of her sex. She whimpers as he continues to work his magic with his lips and sinful tongue.

“Do you want me to stop?” He gives her a pouty look, imploring her to say “no.”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” She grabs a handful of hair and pushes his mouth back to her aching core. He releases a feral growl that barely sounds human. 

“Damn, lass. If you keep pulling my hair, I’m going to come right bloody now like an untried lad!”

“Stop talking, Jones!” Her desperate pleas spur him on as he brings his thumb back to her swollen nub and pushes two fingers inside of her. “Fuck, Killian, Yes!” She keeps one hand in his hair the entire time as he devours her like a starving man. When she reaches her climax she tightens the grip on his hair and releases a scream. He presses soft kisses to her mound as her breathing returns to normal.

He then sits back on his haunches and licks his fingers clean. The look on her face is one of complete satisfaction and he can’t help but beam with pride. _I did that._

“My love, you have no idea just how exquisite you really are. I could stay buried between your thighs for days.” _What’s with the “my love” nonsense. She’s not yours, don’t go there!_

“I’d probably let you,” she mumbles.

“So it was okay?”

“Yeah, it was fine.”

“Whatevs. I blew your mind,” he cockily retorts.

“You know what you’re about, Jones. You don’t need me to stroke your ego.” He chuckles and stands from the bed as a stabbing pain wracks his right side. He grabs it with both hands and tries to steady his breathing.

“Your ribs?”

“Aye. I don’t know how much longer I can keep up with these enjoyable activities.”

“My pleasure isn’t worth your pain. We can find ways to satisfy each other without irritating your wounds.”

“I’ll be fine. Just give me a few minutes to walk it off.” The minutes pass and he still finds himself in extreme discomfort. 

“We could find you an urgent care?” _No doctors._

“No. Ice. Could you bring me a little ice?” She slips on her robe and slippers and treks down the hall in search of ice. While she’s gone he lays back on the bed and closes his eyes. He must black out for a moment because he opens his eyes to see Emma at his side pressing a cool washcloth to his forehead.

“My God! Don’t scare me like that! You’ve been out cold for twenty minutes, Jones!” He rubs his tender side.

“Mmmm,” he groans. “Doesn’t feel like I’m dying, anymore. That’s good.”

“How can you be nonchalant about this?! You’re blacking out!” She dramatically waves her arms around as her voice changes between frustration and fear.

“Eh, from now on I’ll just have some pre-coital ibuprofen and post-coital ice, and I’ll be as right as rain.” She's close enough that he traces his finger across the waistband of her sleep shorts. She slaps his hand and steps away.

“No, no, no! No more intercourse for you, pal. This is platonic from here on out.” She wildly gestures her fingers between the two of them. _I call bullshit!_

“We’ll see, Swan. Besides, can two people really be friends if multiple orgasms are involved?” She gets the reference and huffs in annoyance. _Maybe the eyebrow quirk was overkill._

“Shut Up! You need your rest tonight. We have to make up some serious miles tomorrow.”

“And where, pray tell, is our destination?” She appears very meek as she responds. 

“Virginia Beach, I have reserved a very nice hotel for us, complete with a hot tub and a (cough) king-sized bed. She looks down to the floor in embarrassment and he wants to pummel the asshole that left her with so many insecurities.

“Why would you hide that fact, I have no problems sharing a bed with you.” _In fact, I’d love to._

“Good. But I’m not sharing this bed, it’s too small. I might elbow you or something.” _Her concern for my well being is almost adorable. Hell, it is terribly adorable._

“Fine. I bid you goodnight, Swan.” He moves to rise, but she pushes him back down with her hand.

“Oh no, you don’t! You’re staying right here.”

“But Swan-”

“I’m not exactly being noble, pal.” She bends and breathes in his ear. “This bed smells like sex.”

“It’s all you, darling.” He winks at her. She playfully smacks him with a pillow, then counters with a quick kiss on the lips. 

“Goodnight, Killian.:

"G-night." His heart pounds with a rush of joy when she whispers, _I'm glad you stayed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to make Jack likable! Next stop, Virginia...and some heavy plot.


	7. A Walk in the Park

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma and Killian resume their journey. The cause of Killian's injuries are revealed while Emma gets some troubling news from Graham.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: This chapter contains violence, profanity, and semi-public smut.

Emma busies herself around the hotel room, gathering stray clothing and tidying up. While she's still half dressed, Killian has been ready for an hour and is currently fluffing his hair in the bathroom mirror. She pauses to cast an incredulous look in his direction. _It’s no use, Jones. Perfection cannot be improved upon._

“Swan, what is our heading?” He sounds every bit like a ship's captain and she fights off a lurid pirate fantasy.

“Second star to the right and straight on till Virginia Beach.” She winks and he flashes a boyish grin at her. Smiles like this allow her to catch a glimpse of just how pure of heart he actually is. _Damn this world for trying to break him!_ “According to my calculations, we’re six hours away. It’s a little off the beaten path, but I haven’t visited since I was a kid.”

“Nor I. Though, I doubt my memory of the place is as pleasant as yours.” His posture stiffens and his fingers tap the vanity, as if he’s fighting off a bad memory. She steps forward and soothingly rubs circles on the small of his back. He slowly spins around, capturing her hands and wrapping her arms around his middle. He presses his forehead to hers and they engage in a gentle sway as he leans into her and engulfs her body with his strong arms. She breathes him in with a contented sigh, basking in his manly scent. 

“Mmmm, you always smell like the sea.” She nuzzles her nose into his neck. 

“So, you’re saying I smell like seaweed and dolphin shit?” She responds with a light punch to his arm. _Shut up, Jones._

"You are so not funny!"

“You love my humor. Seriously, though, I have a friend in Raleigh I’d like to see if it’s not too much trouble, love.” He doesn’t meet her eyes while making his request, and Emma is assuming the worst. She definitely doesn't need a Tink 2.0!

“Really? Is this a conjugal visit?” She intends the words in jest, but the bitterness in them refuses to be denied. She realizes how jealous she sounds and removes her hands that have somehow found purchase on her hips. _He’s not yours, Emma! Besides, he wouldn’t do that to you. You know him!_

“No, it isn’t.” He saunters towards her again, this time trapping her against the vanity. “Jealous little minx.” He grabs her hips and kisses her full on the lips, leaving behind a pleasing warmth she can feel to the tips of her toes. Her heart thuds pleasantly from the ease of domesticity between them. Every kiss and touch exchanged feels so natural, as if they’ve been together for years instead of days. His lips continue their exploration of her jawline which encourages a suggestive hum from her. He pauses before reaching her collarbone. “One of my navy mates (kiss to the throat), Jefferson (kiss to the collarbone), lives in Raleigh. He owes me a (kiss to the top of her breast) fairly large sum of money.” He finishes his quest by mirthfully pulling down the cup of her black bra and taking a peak into his mouth. She winds her fingers into his silky mop of hair and begins to knead his scalp. He moans in satisfaction as he unhooks her bra and lavishes wet kisses upon her bosom.

“Define “fairly large”?” He cocks an eyebrow at her, a clear innuendo on the tip of his tongue, but he refrains. Her lust addled brain can scarcely think of anything but how fairly large _he_ is, when she’s jerked from her fantasy by a dinging phone. She ignores it in favor of relishing in the sinful mouth currently exploring her body. She aches with want as she feels his warm breath penetrate her black leggings, striking her throbbing sex in the most delicious way. She intends to strip them off, when the phone dings again. _It’s called silent mode Emma, go utilize it!_

“Ignore it, love. Some things are more important.” She nods as he begins to peel the leggings from her body. Once again the spell is broken, this time, by the sound of a wolf howling.

“Fuck! It’s Ruby. She never calls, I’ll be right back.” She makes a hasty exit and curses at the device as she answers. 

“Rubes! What did you need?”

“Great news, Buttercup! Guess who’s moving to Maine?”

“Um, you?”

“You got that right! Your lovely momma hooked me up with a sweet waitress gig and free room and board above the diner. You’re stuck with me, hun!”

“Ruby, that’s great! When do you move?”

“ASAP, bitch! I’m packing right now! When will you be arriving?”

“I’m not sure, we’re taking our time.”

“I gotcha, you’re inching your way to Storybrooke one orgasm at a time!”

“You’re depraved, goodbye Rubes!"

"Seriously, where are you?”

"On our way to Virginia." Emma finds and fastens her bra while she paces the room looking for her shirt.

"How's it going with him?"

"I can't talk right now, we're almost past check out time." 

"Fine, fine. You weren't answering your texts, sorry to delay you."

"Bye, Rubes."

When a sexually frustrated Emma rejoins Killian, she finds him picking up her freshly packed duffel and edging toward the door. He pauses at the desk to retrieve his new sunglasses. She fully appraises his appearance for the first time that morning. Dark jeans that fit like a second skin, plain black tee, and black boots. His hair is tousled from her fingers tangling in the strands. He looks downright sinful and her mind drifts, yet again, to a very naughty place. 

“Lass.” He waves a hand in front of her face to grab her attention. "Are you going to be staring at my ass for the remainder of our journey?”

“Who says I’ve ever stopped? After all, it’s a nice ass.” She slinks to him and seductively runs her palms down his pecks, to his abs, and grabs on to his belt. The look on his face is a mixture of surprise and lust. She takes her overstuffed baggage from him and tosses it aside.

“You’re playing with fire love. Don’t start something you can’t finish.” She can see the internal battle that’s raging between his brain and his nether regions. _Why is he holding back? Is he mad about the phone?_

“I’m sorry about the call, a lot is going on. I never know if it’s an emergency.” 

“Darling, I’m pretty selfish, but not enough to keep a lady from answering her phone. That didn't bother me in the least.” She unhooks his belt and unsnaps his jeans, pulling the zipper down as slowly as possible, eliciting a groan from him. She bites her lip while imagining the weight of his cock on her tongue. However, his initial moans evolve into pained reluctance as he pulls away.

“Wait, wait, wait! Swan, as much as I want this, and I bloody well do, we don’t have time! The maid will be arriving soon to clean the room. We shan't leave her scandalized.” She tunes him out and runs her nails down his abs, sending a shiver down his body.

“We have time, I’ll be quick.” She reaches for the treasure that lies just behind the unzipped teeth of the zipper. He takes both of her hands in his and lightly kisses the backs of them.

“What happened to no more intercourse? As I recall, you forbade me in engaging in carnal pleasures.” He raises that damn questioning eyebrow.

“I lied.” She pushes him into a sitting position on the bed, intending to straddle his lap. Fate has other plans as they hear a firm knock at the door.

“Housekeeping!” He gives her a cocky _I told you so_ grin as he rises from the bed and opens the door to inform the woman they’re heading out. She begrudgingly throws on her missing shirt and exits the room in a tizzy. He follows closely behind after a quick refasten and presses the elevator call button. If he sees the magnitude of her disappointment, he doesn’t react. He cautiously steps behind her to whisper in her ear.

“Shall we travel onward, you insatiable vixen?” She doesn’t respond. “You do know that if I didn’t walk away, we would’ve never left that room. The things I have planned for you would’ve taken hours. I don’t like being rushed, especially when it comes to you.” She smiles and turns her head to him, allowing him to peck her cheek.

“May I drive, love?” He nuzzles the shell of her ear.

“If you think you can handle the old girl.”

“I’ve never met a lass I couldn’t handle, darling. Except, maybe you.” He winks and slings an arm over her shoulder as they enter the elevator.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Traveling down the highway with a freshly gassed up bug and a replenished pile of snack food, they find themselves a couple of hours outside of Raleigh.

“Alright Jones, I have my question. Blondes or brunettes?” She crosses her arms with pride. _Answer that one, buddy!_

“That is a trap question if I’ve ever heard one! Only a bloody git would say brunette in front of a gorgeous blonde.” _He thinks I’m gorgeous._

“You also promised not to lie to me.” 

“I’ve only seriously dated one brunette, and that was a bloody disaster, so I’ll say blonde on principle. Besides, I quite like the contrast to my own stunning locks.” He mockingly runs his fingers through his hair. She responds by using both hands to playfully ruffle it herself.

“How very modest of you, but I have to agree. I love the contrast of dark and light. Your hair is definitely my favorite color.” He beams with pride and gives her a salacious grin before his next question.

“Do you want a boring question or a saucy one?”

“Saucy? How saucy are we talking?” _Where’s this going?_

“Favorite sexual position?” He's gazing at her like she’s a delicious meal worth sinking his teeth into. _Eyes on the road, pal._

“Really? That’s your question?” she scoffs. “I thought you were already certain mine was “vanilla missionary?” The imitation of his accent complete with air quotes sounds pretty accurate to her.

“Humor me.”

“Well, ah, I don’t know. The way you took me from behind the other night was pretty damn good.” Her answer surprises him.

“Whaaaaat?" _The upward pitch of his voice is downright cute._ "You didn’t even finish. Plus, I was a trainwreck that night, not my best work.”

“I don’t know. I think it was the mirror, I could see everything. It was so, I don’t know...erotic?”

“Mmmm, mirror fetish,” he hums. “I’ll tuck that info away.”

“What about you? Lemme guess? Some weird contorted position from Kama Sutra?”

“That...is my secret to keep.” He taps her on the nose with the tip of his finger.

“You suck, Jones...but not as badly as this passenger seat, my ass is numb.” He gives her a good natured chuckle.

“Aye. You need an upgrade. The Flintstones had better transportation.” She responds by roughly punching his arm.

“You are incredibly violent, especially to an injured fellow. I shudder to think of how you'd treat me at full strength!” Her smile gives way to serious contemplation.

“How did it happen?” The fall of his face tells her the question needs no clarifying. The air is seemingly sucked out of the cab as he looks to her, then the road, then to her again. He pinches the bridge of his nose and nods his head.

“I wasn’t handling Liam’s death very well. Too many reminders all around me of how much I failed him. I couldn’t focus on my work and ended up losing my job. Gold had me blacklisted, so no one in the area would even hire me. It was only a matter of time before I ran out of money. Liam had cut me out of the majority of his will, so everything of value he owned went to our cousin, Belle. That stung, but I can’t say I blame him. I decided to leave town with nothing but the clothes on my back and a half a tank of gas in the piece of shit car Liam and I shared. I didn’t go far before a black truck started following me. I tried to lose them, to no avail. When I was running on fumes, I managed to make it to a rest stop. When the truck followed me, I knew I was fucked. Two large men told me to follow them to the restroom. I refused and they stuck a gun to my ribs telling me to walk. I figured I was dead either way, so why not? Once inside, it was a blur of boots and blood. I woke up on the disgusting floor of the restroom, smelling of piss and stripped of my jacket and shoes wishing they would’ve just finished the job. They took my car and the last three hundred dollars I had to my name. I walked a few miles before my injuries got the better of me. I went to the nearest gas station hoping to catch a ride and that’s where I met you.”

“Killian, I’m so fucking sorry! It was _him_ , wasn’t it? He had those men attack you!”

“I believe so, love. The Gods only know why they left me alive. But Emma, I’m afraid I have a confession to make.”

“What?” _Oh God, what has he done?_

“I hate beef jerky.” Just like that, he has shifted the mood in the car and the conversation has been diverted. She appreciates the sharing his tale and silently vows to make Neal’s entire fucking family pay for what they’ve done to him! _One day..._

“I can hear you plotting your revenge from here, love. It’s not worth it. I’m not worth it.”

“Kil-”

“No, enough lamenting the past. We’ve been on the road nearly four hours, how about a tag-out, aye? I could use a stretch and then you can ferry us into Raleigh to meet Jeff.”

“How much money does this guy owe you? And why?”

“I loaned him $1500 last year. He was down on his luck and needed help from a friend. He was about to lose his bar.”

“I see.” She knows there is more to this story than he's telling her, but she doesn't question him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killian manages to find a small secluded park for them to enjoy a picnic lunch. They lay down a blanket and perch on the grass.

“Pass the chips, will ya?” She leans into his personal space and holds out an open palm.

“No love, these are my crisps, you ate all of yours already.”

“I had like five total in my bag.”

“That’s not my fault, blame the manufacturer.”

“Please?” She sticks out her lower lip and bats her eyelashes.

“Fine.” He passes her the bag. "Mooch."

“Thanks, Killy!” she utters in her sweetest voice.

“You know, the only reason I let you get away with that nickname is because my dearly departed mother called me that.”

“Awe. A little dark haired, blue eyed boy named Killy. That’s precious.” _His babies would be beautiful._

“Yeah. yeah. Don't tease me.” They lay on their backs and she lovingly takes his hand in hers.

“What was her name?” He is taken aback by the question; obviously no one has ever asked him about her.

“Alice. She was the most wonderful human ever placed on this earth. What about yours?”

“Mary Margaret. She’s the most challenging human ever placed on this earth. I’m more of a daddy’s girl, David is his name. What about your dad?”

“I dare not utter the name of that inconsequential dickweed.”

“Where is he?”

“Rotting in hell for all I care. If he’s still drawing breath, he didn’t care enough to come to Liam’s funeral.” He takes several calming breaths and interlocks their fingers. “I think Belle knows his whereabouts. What kind of creature doesn’t attend their eldest child’s funeral?” _A monster._

“Do you think you’ll have kids one day?”

“As in, do I _want_ kids?” He sighs. “No.”

“Why not?” She tries to hide her disappointment. _Not like it matters, Emma. Get a grip._

“I don’t have the means to provide for them. It wouldn't be fair to make a child grow up as I did, scrounging for food and being laughed at for wearing dime store clothing.”

“But one day, if you could…”

“I don’t know, lass.” His face looks so broken. “I don’t know if I’m father material.” She props up on one elbow.

“Are you kidding?! You would be a great dad! Plus, you’d be doing the world a favor. You definitely have some traits that deserve to be passed onto future generations.” _Hair. Check. Eyes. Check. Elvish Ears. Double Check._

“Annnd I have some that don’t.” He stares out into the forest for a tick before speaking again. “What about you?”

“I want five.” He sits up straight and stares at her in shock.

“Five? Bloody hell! That’s quite a lot!” She amused by the comedic size of his pupils. “How about three?”

“Four is as low as I’ll go.”

“Bugger, I don’t know what I’d do with four children!” He nervously runs his hands through his hair.

“Well, lucky for you, these are _my_ children we’re talking about. Unless, you’re saying you want them to be half _yours_?” He sputters on his freshly water and his cheeks flame impossibly red. _That’s interesting. So, he’s entertained the notion._

“Well, I, uh, that is...they would most definitely want to go sailing with their _Uncle_ Killian and four is quite a lot to look after. That fourth one would have to stay behind.”

“No one leaves Emma Jr. behind!” They look at each other and neither can contain their laughter. He laughs so hard his ribs start to hurt.

“You and those damned ribs, Jones. Have you taken any painkillers today?”

“Am I going to be engaging in activities that require them?” She reaches in her purse and tosses the bottle to him.

“Take them, Jones, you never know…” 

“Aye, Captain!” She rolls her eyes and starts cleaning up their picnic area. He folds up the blanket and returns it to her car, returning to lean on her hood and gaze out into the wilderness once more.

“My turn, love. Name one thing on your bucket list.”

“Easy. I want a tattoo.”

“So, go get one. They’re easily obtained, I’m surprised you don’t have one already.”

“Rob-well, let’s just say someone didn’t approve. Besides, I don’t know what I’d get, it's permanent after all.”

“May I have a pen and paper? I have an idea.”

She retrieves a pen and notepad from the glovebox and hands it to him. He begins to scribble. He has to flip over several pages, but when he is done, he shows her a small drawing of a swan. It is so simple, yet exactly what she's looking for. She sits next to him on the hood.

“Killian, that’s perfect! Thank you.” He proudly puffs his chest as she places a quick kiss on his cheek. “I’ll get one in Virginia. My dad will shit himself, but it’s all good.” She pats his thigh. “Your turn. Bucket list...go!”

“I want to own a schooner. Liam and I had plans to refurbish one and sail it up and down the coast. Plans change, though, and I’d settle for any kind of ship. Hell, I’d take a dinghy at this point.” 

“Just make sure it’s big enough for me and my five children.”

“Aye, lass. Will do.” His look is soft and wistful as they lean toward each other, when her phone starts buzzing on the nearby picnic table. He mumbles under his breath about an _infernal device_ as she retrieves it.

“It’s my friend, Graham.” Emma can’t stop the blush that infuses her cheeks. She answers the call.

“Emma, thank God I got you, do you have a minute?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“I need to talk to you, it’s about Gold.” _Shit!_

The mention of the name causes Killian’s ears to perk up as Emma puts the call on speaker so he can hear, too.

“Emma, they found Tamara! Her body was floating offshore near her father’s home.” Killian questioningly looks at her.

“So, she’s dead?”

“Yes. I have some contacts down in Miami. No cause of death yet, but they’re trying to brush it off as accidental.”

“That’s bullshit! Robert is responsible for this, Graham.” She paces around the picnic area kicking dirt as she goes.

“You know it and I know it! Your father and I have been digging into his shady past. The man leaves a trail of death and destruction in his wake, but he has never faced conviction. People he’s associated with have a way of disappearing.”

“Thanks for the update, Graham. Shit! This is terrible!”

“Watch yourself Em, stay vigilant at all times. Perhaps we can catch up when you get home? I’ll save you a seat in our spot.” Killian asks to see her phone. She thinks it's to berate Graham, but his soft blue eyes reassure her of his intentions.

“Oye, mate. I have a question for you. You’re an officer of the law, yes?”

“Yes, but who are you?”

“My name is Killian, I’m a friend of Emma’s. I’m seeing that she makes it home safely. Listen, I’ve had dealings with Robert, as well. Could you look into a suspicious death for me?”

“I suppose.”

“Liam Jones, my brother. He died on November 20th this past year. They found his body in a similar manner of this Tamara. Ruled it as an accidental death by drowning during a boating accident. It’s a shot in the dark, but it’s worth an ask.”

“Sure, sure, I’ll add it to my notes. Could I-uh speak to Emma privately, please?” Killian hands the phone over to her and starts to walk away. A gentle hand to his arm stops him.

“I’m here, Graham, but whatever you have to say can be said in front of Killian.”

“Nevermind. We’ll be in touch. Tell your _friend_ I’ll look into his brother’s death.” She hears the disdain in his voice and wonders if Killian is the cause. _Jealousy, perhaps._ When the call ends, Killian looks positively baffled.

“So, who’s Graham?” There's a smug look to his features that she wants to either kiss or slap off of his face.

“That’s what you gleaned from that conversation? Seriously?”

“I have many questions about that particular conversation, I’m merely beginning with the easiest to answer. And I’m dying to know who names their child after a cracker.” More j _ealousy, great. Men suck!_

“Not fair, Killian. Graham is a good guy and a good friend.” She wags a finger at him.

“I’ve seen what you do with your friends, Emma.” _Son of a bitch!_

“Oh, no! You don’t get to play the role of the jealous boyfriend, Killian!"

“Of course not, I could never play that role as well as you do.” he spits.

“Oh, hell, no!” She stops him before he can enter the passenger’s seat. “Stop pretending to be an asshole, it’s not a good look for you.” 

“Who says I’m pretending?” She furrows her brow and pokes his chest with her finger. Her temper has reached its tipping point.

“Listen to me, Killian Jones, this act stops right now! I don’t give a flying fuck about your self preservation! No one gets to speak to me like that! Furthermore, if you honestly believe that my feelings for you are just platonic, then you’re the world’s biggest idiot! In fact, I’ve never felt more like myself than when I’m around you. My armor comes off and so does yours. Yeah, it’s as scary as shit, but I know we’re worth it, Killian. Barking snide comments at the people you care about doesn't protect you from getting hurt, it just makes you a complete asshat!” He blinks at her, soaking in the shock of his brutal tongue lashing. “Now, put on your big boy panties and tell me what you’re really thinking!”

“Have you and the cra-er, Graham, ever…?”

“Yes, Graham was my high school boyfriend. See how lovely communication is? Was that so hard?”

“So, was he by chance…”

“Yes, Graham was my first, but you have no reason to be jealous, Killian.”

“It’s hard for a fellow not to be a little jaded. First loves are hard to compete with. I could tell on the phone that he has feelings for you.”

“That's bullshit! Things with him were not ideal.”

“What do you mean?” She takes him by the hand and leads him to the picnic table.

“It’s just difficult to ignite the flames of passion when you’ve known someone since kindergarten. I’ve seen him eat glue for fuck’s sake! But, it was what our parents wanted and he really is a great guy, so I figured I'd give him a chance. Early on, I knew that the spark was missing, so I broke up with him when I went to college. That doesn’t stop my meddling parents, though. Or him, for that matter. Not that I owe you justification, but I swear to you that I have no interest in him beyond platonic friendship.”

“I see. So, he’s an officer of the law, a righter of wrongs, a moral crusader?”

“Yes. To a fault. His moral compass is as straight as they come.”

“Yet, he has no qualms about engaging in premarital s-...forget it, tongue held.”

“Good choice. You know, the woman in question was Neal’s girlfriend, the one I caught him with.” She suddenly gains interest in flicking her fingernails as she avoids the fact that she should've told him about Tamara going missing.

“I figured as much. And you think Gold is involved?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” He wrinkles his nose in disgust. “It’s too coincidental. It makes me wonder how many people he’s killed, Liam included.”

“Aye. I had always accepted his death as face value, I didn't want to consider foul play. I suppose I can't continue living in ignorance and avoid the signs any longer." His hands start to fidget as if he doesn't quite know what to do with them. "Moments like this make a bloke wish he hadn't quit smoking. You don't have..."

"No, sorry. I've never indulged." They sit side by side, letting the weight of Graham's news seep into their brains.

"Why didn’t you tell me a girl had gone missing?”

“I guess I didn’t want to upset you or throw anything else on your plate.”

“You don’t have to hide things from me, I’ve put on my as you call them _big boy panties_.” She chuckles.

“I promise not to hide anything from you again as long as you leave those on! Are you ready to go to Raleigh?” She hops off the table and extends her hand to him, but he doesn't take it.

“Almost. Look, I’m sorry for shooting off at the mouth. I never allow myself to get close enough to someone to feel jealousy, it’s a new emotion. I told you I’m not a good man. I’m brash, and stupid, and selfish, and-” While he's ticking off his undesirable traits on his fingers, her eyes linger on his lips, so full, lush, and totally kissable.

“Shut the fuck up, Jones!” She pulls his face to hers as their lips collide. It only takes a second before he is thoroughly plundering her mouth. Her hands find purchase around his neck while he cups her bottom over her leggings and squeezes before hauling her into his lap. Their mouths fight for dominance and Emma is embarrassed by the needy sounds escaping her.

“Mmm, you’d better be glad there’s not a bed nearby, lass, or I’d be plunging into you right about now.” She pulls away from the sanctuary of his arms and backs three steps away from him as a deliciously naughty thought infiltrates her mind.

“Who says we need a bed? If you’re going to act like a caveman, you might as well fuck like one.” She jerks her shirt over her head and teases her fingers down to the front clasp of her white lace bra.

“You hussy, what did you have in mind?”

“Look around you. Since we’ve been here, we haven’t seen a single car. There’s nothing but wilderness. I’ll bet, you could take me right here on this table and no one would even see.” He scratches behind his ear, obviously contemplating the scenario.

“I don’t know darling, isn’t it risky? What if we get charged with public indecency or something?” But, it’s too late. Emma has already retrieved their blanket and is removing every scrap of her clothing. She strips out in the open and the feeling is liberating! Never has she felt so free. Everyone she knows would scold her for attempting such a feat. Logically, she knows they could get busted, but the thought of getting caught only adds to her adrenaline high. She is completely bare as she sits on top of the blanked table, beckoning Killian forward with a crooked finger.

“Fuck, love. Are you sure about this?”

“Aye, sailor.” She bends her knees and places her feet flat on the table. She sees him gulp as he clenches his fists. She moves her fingers down to breasts for a hard squeeze and writhes beneath her own touch.

“Mmm, your hands would feel so much better than mine. Please, Killian.” Her digits reach the apex of her thighs and she immediately buries them within her wet heat. Her back arches and she can feel her pulse pounding in her ears. She briefly imagines how ridiculous she must look masturbating on a picnic table in the middle of nowhere, but the look on his face makes everything worth it. She has never seen more desire present in a man’s eyes as he steps forward, squeezing himself through his jeans.

“Join me,” she pants.

“Not yet, love. I want to watch you fuck yourself, first. Show me how you like it.” She whimpers as she circles her clit and he gently places his hands on her knees, watching her in complete awe.

“What are you thinking about darling? Is it me? Are you imagining how perfectly I fit inside of you?” He hisses and frees himself from his denim prison, allowing them and his boxer briefs to pool just below his knee caps. 

“Fuck, yes, Killian! Your cock is so much better than my scrawny fingers. Please, now! I need you.” He begins pumping himself as he steps forward.

“I want to taste you so badly, but if I'm not inside of you soon, I’m going to explode.” He then removes her fingers from her center and licks them clean, moaning with satisfaction. He grabs her hips and slides her down to align with his. 

“How do you want it, Emma?” She knows how he wants it by the feral expression on his handsome face. Luckily, they are on the same page.

“Hard and fast, make me feel it for days, Killian!”

“Mmm, as you wish.” After a few drags through her folds he eases himself inside of her inch by inch. When he’s fully seated, she squeezes her eyes shut in satisfaction. 

“God, finally. This is where you belong, Jones. I want to fuck you every day of my life!” Her words seem to invigorate him and he begins thrusting in earnest, hard and fast, plunging himself inside her at a brutal pace. She feels so full and every drag sends a jolt of pleasure deep inside of her. Between being worked up from her previous ministrations, and the thrill of being outdoors, she already senses the familiar tingle of climax settling in her spine. She shakes her head from side to side. _Not yet!_

“You’re a fucking Goddess, Emma! No one can take my cock and milk me dry like you do!”

“God, keep going, I don’t want this to end. I’m so close, but I don’t want to come yet, you feel so fucking amazing, baby! _Baby? Baby! You don’t use pet names, Emma!_

“Come my love, please! I’m hanging on by a thread.” His voice cracks, his thrusts get jerky, and she can feel his thighs shaking below her. He presses his thumb to her clit and after a series of deep accentuated thrusts, he spills himself deep within her. She mewls and pulses around him as her own climax washes over her. She knows without a doubt, that this is the best sex of her life and that no one could ever make her feel as good as Killian does. _Four days, it’s been four days!_

He desperately tries to catch his breath and grips her hips for balance. “I swear I’ll pull out soon, I just need a minute.” That makes her giggle and clench around him. She feels a twitch from his manhood in response.

“Really, Jones, again? This soon?”

“Darling, I totally could, but we’d better not press our luck.” He winks and helps her clean up as they dress one another. They stand next to the bug as she slips her flats on. _God, he looks positively wrecked._ She stands on her tiptoes and kisses his cheek but he gives her a look of disapproval and captures her full on the lips instead, just as a car pulls into the picnic area. The relief on his face is priceless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this was a lot! Please be patient with our babies as they work out their issues. Neither has ever been in a healthy relationship.


	8. Down that Rabbit Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite Emma's reluctance, the pair meets up with an old friend of Killian's. Truths are revealed and Graham digs deeper into the Gold case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: swearing and attempted drugging, mentions of drug use.

He looks toward the Raleigh exit and begins fidgeting in the passenger’s seat, tapping his feet and biting his nails. She’s never seen him so antsy.

“You look nervous. Full disclosure, Killy, what are we getting into?” The smile he flashes her is meant to be reassuring, but it doesn’t reach his eyes and that twists her stomach with dread.

“I just haven’t seen him in a long time. He’s not the same man I knew in the service. Jefferson is an _eccentric_ fellow to say the least, but for the most part he’s a good bloke.”

“The most part?!” _Shit! “_ What if he’s moved?” Her brain is grasping for a silver lining.

“Not a chance, he owns a shitty little bar on the outskirts of town. His apartment is the top level of it. I’ll warn you though, these patrons aren’t exactly suburban country clubbers.”

“Ha! What are they...drug dealers?” Her sarcasm is met with silence. “Geez! Tell me you aren’t friends with pushers?” _Please._

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” He winces and squints one eye.

“Because you asked me not to lie to you. The truth is, he dabbles. We’ve taken different paths in life, but that doesn’t null and void a friendship.”

“Son of a bitch! This is a terrible idea.” Now, she is the antsy one, imagining the worst case scenario as she tugs her lower lip between her teeth. “You are officially the worst friend finder, ever!”

“You’ll meet worse people working bail bonds, darling.”

“Killian! I would wear tight dresses and set honey traps in posh Miami hotels, not engage in gunfights with roughneck dealers on their own turf!”

“I believe you’re picturing the O.K. Corral. If that’s the case, I’ll be Wyatt, you can be Doc! Turn left up here.” _Smug bastard!_

“No way, Jones! I’m definitely Wyatt in this scenario!”

“Not a chance! I’m clearly Wyatt. You’ll make another left in a mile.”

“Give me one good reason why you’re Wyatt. Are you an avid gambler?”

“No, lass. But to alert you, the road turns to dirt just up ahead.”

“Do you frequent brothels?” _Are brothels still around?_

“Of course not! A man as absurdly good looking as I am doesn’t have to pay for intercourse.” He winks and chuckles at the cheeky comment.

“Ah! Flirty Jones, welcome back, it’s been awhile.” She sighs. “For the record, you are pretty cute, but can you wield a gun?”

“I’ve had small arms training, but I’m not an expert marksman by any means. I'd have no inkling to participate in pistols at dawn, if that’s what you mean. We’re here, by the way, there’s the parking lot.”

“Wait...you tricked me! You hijacked the conversation to keep my nerves at bay, didn’t you?”

“Guilty as charged.”

“You're a lingual terrorist!” He laughs so hard, it rattles his ribs, causing him to clutch his side, but the grimace is replaced with a genuine smile. He turns in his seat to cup her cheek and run the pad of his thumb across the apple of it. 

“Gods, I adore you, Swan.” The sincerity of the words takes her breath away. The possibility of growing something deeper with him becomes very real and she’s slightly spooked by this prospect. He taps her nose to break the tension.

“Besides, I managed to keep my own nerves at bay, so win-win.”

“This place sucks.” He snorts and nods in agreement.

“Quick in and out, I promise. We’ll be napping on the beach reeking of coconut oil before you know it.” She pictures a lazy day of lounging on the beach with him. _Then again, he’d be the type to forgo the land completely in favor of splashing in the waves._

“First, we have to convince a low brow ruffian to willingly hand over $1500. I swear, If I find out this is a drug deal, I will chop off your balls and you can find your own damn way to Boston!” She gestures to him with an exaggerated scissor motion. He tilts her chin to him, rubbing his thumb across her lower lip. 

“It’s not a drug deal. Emma, I swear to you that I have never sold, distributed, or knowingly consumed any illegal drugs.” _Knowingly?_

“But have you seen _this guy_ do any of those things?” He scrunches his face again.

“Dammit, Killian!” She lays her head upon the steering wheel and peeks over it, eyeing up this roadhouse called, _The Rabbit Hole_. He clearly oversold its charm, because _shitty_ doesn’t scratch the surface. The word that does come to Emma’s mind is _tetanus shot!_ The building itself is completely dilapidated. Brown paint is peeling from the walls and the windows are cracked and smoggy. The plot of dirt intended as a parking lot is littered with beer bottles, among other unmentionables. Her nerves reemerge as she instinctively grabs Killian’s hand as an anchor. “Thank goodness it’s still light out, it’ll make it easier to find the bodies when this place collapses in on itself.” He gives her a reassuring smile and interlaces their fingers. _An unarmed woman and an injured man don’t stand a chance if this transaction turns sour._

“Maybe it would be better if I stayed here and waited for you. I'll be the getaway driver.”

“Yeah Swan, that’s probably _not_ a good idea. Besides, Wyatt wouldn’t have stayed behind in the car.” 

“Yeah, if he had one, he wouldn’t have lived in the damned desert, either!”

“It’s okay, lass. It looks worse than what it is. We’ll be right in and out.” After a sweet kiss, they leave the safety of her car and bravely enter the bar. A roach crawls across the toe of her shoe and she gasps, shaking her foot free of the insect. Killian saddles up to the bar and asks for Jefferson. The bartender says they can find him at the pool table. They approach a group of burly men smoking and drinking. _Who drinks at 3:00 in the afternoon?_ There are two scantily clad women in their company and she feels their scrutinizing gazes fall upon her, so she tugs the hem of her shirt farther down her leggings and frees her hair from her ponytail.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Killian Motherfucking Jones! What brings you here, boy?” A scrawny unkempt man nods to them. _Aha! This skeezer must be Jefferson._

“Jeff, it’s been a long time.” The men embrace in what Emma could describe as a bro hug. The greasy man, Jefferson, gives her an uneasy feeling as he appraises her. She’s been around enough horndogs in her life to know he’s undressing her with his eyes.

“Who’s the new slag, Jones?” He gestures in her direction.

“This is Emma, and she’s not a slag, mate.” She marvels at Killian’s protective tone.

“Damn boy, you made an upgrade. This one is a peach.” He whistles and takes her hand to kiss the back of it. She feels the bile rising in her throat. Jefferson reeks of sweat and alcohol and she would be surprised if he’s seen the inside of a shower in the past month. Killian doesn’t appreciate the gesture either, because his jaw is twitching as he pulls her close to him with the murderous gaze of an alpha male. “Mm-mmm, you don’t loan her out do you?” Jeff rubs his thumb across the back of her hand and Killian jerks it away instantly. “Relax, I’m only kidding, you used to be better at sharing!” He winks at Killian. Emma doesn’t know his meaning, but she knows she doesn’t like it. _Again with the sharing?_

“Jeff, this isn’t a social visit. I’m afraid I need my money.” His back stiffens and Emma knows at that very moment that this visit won’t end well.

“Woah, boy, cool your jets. What’s the rush? Play a round with us. Then we can go upstairs and I’ll give you your money.” He moves in closer to Killian. “I’ve got some sweet _H_ upstairs, too. Not that you ever had the conunkles for it. Unless you want some for Peach, here.”

“No, thanks,” he bites. 

“You’re missing out, Jones.”

As Jeff walks away and returns to the thick cloud of cigarette smoke around the pool table, he motions for them to follow. Emma leans closer to Killian’s ear. “He’s lying, Killian. I can tell. We should just get out of here,” she whispers.

“No, I guarantee there is a pharmaceutical medley upstairs.”

“Not that, the money. It’s not worth the risk. Even if he has it, there’s no way he’s handing it over. Besides, the underlying hostility on your end suggests this man is less than a friend.” Killian leans in, pretending to nuzzle her neck. Emma catches on to his ploy and giggles like a teenage girl while he speaks softly to her.

"Swan, it’s $1500 and I can’t just let that go. But, if he touches you again, I swear I’ll break his fucking hand.” She latches onto his waist with both hands and sincerely pleads with him. 

“Please Killian. I don’t have a good feeling about this.” He wraps his arms around her and blinks at the rotting ceiling tiles before locking eyes.

“One round. Then we go, money or no.” She nods but remains close to him.

“Count me in, mate,” he says to Jefferson.

“Sweet! Men, this is Jones. We were in the navy together...until he couldn’t pass his piss test!” He claps Killian on the back and he winces. The rest of them erupt into uproarious laughter. “You want a smoke?” He hold a cigarette out for him to take, but Killian doesn't bat an eye.

“No, thanks. I quit.”

“Damn, dude! Did Peach here cut off your balls?” _Peach is certainly about to!_

“At least tell me you still drink?”

“Aye.”

“Somebody get this man a beer!” Jeff holds up two fingers and one of the women leaves to place an order. The men are bantering, but Emma’s eyes are following the brunette in the leather mini as she disappears into a back room, holding up two fingers to the bartender. She watches out of her peripheral as he reaches under the bar for a small brown vial and puts droplets of something in the beer meant for Killian. Emma can’t help but wonder how often that vial is used, and she fights away that nauseating thought. The woman comes back with a tray of five other beer bottles and picks the additional one up from the bartender. Her sweet Killian, of course, is oblivious as they rack the balls and divvy up the sticks. They let him take the first shot. She sees Jefferson nod to the beer wench as they applaud him for sinking two of his balls. His face looks so proud, and she doesn’t understand how people can take advantage of him. Her heart is pounding as the leather lady gives Killian a beer and winks at him. He told her once he didn’t need a savior, but dammit, why does he always need saving? _Step in, Emma! You can’t be passive!_ She swoops in and takes the drink from him before it can reach his lips.

“Oh, that looks good, can I have the first drink, hun? I’m like, so thirsty!” She hopes she’s coming across as flighty and naïve as she fans herself with feigned excitement. He gives her permission, but she can tell he’s questioning her motives. She brings it to her lips, only to let it slip through her fingers and come crashing to the ceramic tile. She briefly registers words like, “boo” and “party foul.” Jefferson has a skeptical eye on her as she grabs on to the front Killian’s shirt. “Oh my! I’m so sorry. It was really slick. Sweetie, let’s go ask for a towel.” She doesn't wait for a response, but pulls him by the shirt all the way up to the bar.

“What in the bloody hell has gotten into you? That was on purpose,” he mutters.

“No shit, Sherlock, they drugged it.”

“What?!”

“I’m telling you, they fucking drugged it! We need to leave, now! Every warning bell in my body is going off!” In a matter of seconds, Jefferson is standing next to them. Emma quickly slips back into the ditsy girlfriend act. She yells to the back room for the bartender who has since disappeared. 

“Oh, bartender! I’d like to buy a round of beers for my friends in the corner to apologize for spoiling their game.” She slaps some bills on the counter. “And do you have a mop? We need a wet clean up. Thanks.” He clods up to them and from this distance, he’s more like a giant than a mere mortal. With a stoic look, he slaps a moldy rag onto the counter.

“There ya go, honey,” he grumbles. He gives Jeff a pointed stare before grabbing several bottles of beer and placing them on the counter as well. He slaps Emma’s money and stuffs it into his back pocket.

“I’m going to make a call, Jones, you can’t hear for shit out here in Bumfuck, North Carolina!" Jefferson claps Killian on the back again. "Be back in a moment. Then, we’ll head upstairs.” Jeff motions toward the entrance. “You should really keep a better leash on your girlfriend, man. She has the refinement of a swine.” He winks at her and exits the building.

“Anton! Are you going to bring that beer over or what?” shouts a man from the back. The bartender, Anton, sighs and picks up the bottles for delivery, leaving Emma alone with Killian.

“Swan, I know he’s a little rough around the edges...”

“He has nefarious intentions. I can read people really well, Killian.”

“Like you read your fiancé?” _Ouch! That stung._ “Sorry, lass. I didn’t mean that!”

“Forget it! I’ll be in the restroom if you need me.” She storms off, holding back rapidly pooling tears. The stench of the restroom is damn near unbearable and she has to kick a needle aside to reach the faucet. _Classy joint._ She splashes cool water on her face from the rusty sink and snorts at the used condom floating within it. _Eh, at least they’re safe._ She gives herself a good long look in the mirror. _Try harder, Emma. You can’t escape if you’re hiding in the bathroom like a coward._ As she’s blotting her cheeks dry, she hears a muffled voice say “Jones.” It’s coming from outside a tiny open window, so she stands under it for a better vantage point.

“He’s here, boss...Yes, it’s him, definitely not dead...no, he’s got some blonde girl with him, says her name is Emma...no, sir...yes, sir...where is he when you need disposal...California?...fuck...I’ll detain him myself...shouldn’t be hard...you’ll hear from me by tomorrow...he’s the younger dumber one, shouldn't take as long...fuck what Milah wants!” That’s all she needs to hear. She slams open the door and runs smack into Killian’s chest. He doubles over in pain, clutching at his ribs.

“Killian! Are you okay? Shit, were you standing with your face completely against the door, or what?” He’s trying to catch his breath and shake off the pain.

“You know, at this rate, these things will never heal,” he grunts. “I actually came to apologize. I’m truly sorry and I was out of line. If you want to leave, we will. I’ve wasted our time on a fool’s errand and set us off course. I’ve already bid the guys farewell.” She doesn’t really care about an apology, she just has to get them out of here as fast as humanly possible.

“Great, you’re forgiven. Here are the keys, we have to leave now before Jeff comes back!”

“It’s bad form to leave without a proper goodbye.”

“It’s also bad form to kill people, but this jerkoff doesn’t seem to mind.” She forcefully grabs his hand and practically drags him out the door, across the parking lot, and safely into the bug. 

“Slow down. You’re quite keen on dragging me, aren’t you?” He starts it up and in minutes they’re back on the dirt road. She breathes a sigh of relief, but her body won’t stop shaking. _Get us to the interstate, we’re safer on the interstate!_

“Kill people? What did you mean by that, love?” She tells Killian what she heard and he stares ahead, slowly processing her words. “Bloody hell, that actually makes a lot of sense!” He is fairly calm, but Emma is absolutely frantic.

“What if he knows who I am?! He mentioned California, I assume he' was speaking of Neal. We’re both dead if he catches us!”

“I can pull over to let you get your bearings.”

“Fuck, no! Keep driving, we have to keep driving! We’re three hours from Virginia Beach. Just get us there. We can dump the car and get a rental for the rest of the trip!”

“Darling, you’re having a panic attack. Breathe!” But she can’t breathe, not with the knowledge that men like Jefferson actually exist. Killian is unusually quiet.

“Say something! Aren't you worried?!” Her heart cannot possibly pound any harder, and it perturbs her that he can remain calm at a time like this.

“No. I’m not. Gold is in Florida murdering coeds, Neal is in California, and Jefferson doesn’t even own a damn car,” he jokingly replies. 

“That is not fucking funny, Killian! Attempted murder doesn’t phase you, but knowing I have an ex boyfriend named after a cracker, does?! You’re sick! That “mate” of yours tried to drug you! Not only that, he said you were “younger and dumber,” that implies he had a hand in Liam’s death! How are you not completely freaking out?”

“Darling, one of us has to stay calm. I’m choosing not to fully process right now. When we’re safe inside our next hotel, I will fall apart, believe me!” He grits his teeth. She notices the cords in his neck tightening and the straining of his fingers against the steering wheel. _He’s holding back for my sake._ She forces herself to take deep breaths.

“I have so many questions, Killian. What exactly are you involved in? Piss test? Sharing girlfriends? Loaning money to drug lords? Who the fuck are you, Jones?”

“Love, I can’t answer all of those at once. Narrow it down to one.”

“Fine! I’ll take _piss test_ for $600, Alex!” He takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose, which she notices is his _big reveal_ habit.

“Jeff and I were in the Navy together. One night, we had a pretty wild party.”

“How wild?”

“Pretty damn wild. But, I swear on my mother, I didn’t use any drugs. They’re not my thing. Anyway, one of my commanding officers received a report that I had been using. Gave me a urinalysis that supposedly turned up positive for a myriad of illegal substances. Jeff’s, coincidentally, turned up clean. I was terminated immediately, never knowing how that happened, but after today’s events, I think Jeff set me up.”

“You think?! Dammit, Killian. Is any part of your past not completely fucked up?! Why would he do that? I thought you had your act together while you were in service?”

“I did. It was just one party. I’ve no clue why he’d want to set me up. Looking back, he was so insistent that I attend. I told you that trouble always finds me.” He dejectedly runs his fingers through his hair.

“What did he mean by _sharing?_ I swear to God, Killian, if you had a threesome with that dickhead I’m taking a bleach bath.”

“No. He has to be referring to Milah. They started “dating” around the time of the party.” He can't disguise the thick bitterness on his tongue.

“Well, that explains the hostility on your end, if he was dipping in your Kool-Aid.”

“I guess it bothered me some. I don't know who initiated the courtship, but it was a short dalliance. She and I got back together when...when...after...bloody buggering fuck! Emma, I’ve figured it out! All of it!" His calm demeanor quickly gives way to something more animated and bordering on frantic. 

“What?!”

“I have two theories. Maybe she told him she didn’t want him and he retaliated out of spite. Jealousy has been known to drive men mad. I've even had a taste of it recently."

"And second?"

"Maybe they were in it together. Milah could've paid Jefferson to drug me that night or at the very least, swap our samples. She knew if she stripped away my dignity, I’d be more likely go back to her.”

“Valid theories, but neither explains why you were left alive. No one crosses Robert Gold and lives to tell the tale!”

“It’s Milah! Don’t you see? She doesn’t want me dead, she wants me back. She’s a lot of things, but she’s no idiot. She'd have years of evidence against Gold. Evidence that can eternally damn him! He kills me, she exposes him.”

“I don’t get it, why not kill her?” They freeze before both of their eyes light up in realization.

“Neal,” they say in unison.

“Emma, it makes perfect sense! If you kill her, Neal sings like a canary, and Gold possibly faces the death penalty. We both know Neal is his legacy, nothing can happen to him."

“Except that Ruby said someone beat him to a pulp."

"I'd imagine Gold roughed him up for screwing things up with you, not that he didn't deserve every bit of his thrashing." 

“Boom! Killian, we cracked the case!”

“Aye, I think we did, but the strings are unraveling. Gold must be getting desperate if he wants Jeff to actually kill me.”

“You left town, Killian. You’re a loose cannon. He must think you have evidence or something.”

“Call Graham.” She fumbles for her phone to dial his number. He picks up on the second ring.

“Oye?”

“Graham!”

“Hey, Emma. I was just thinking of you. Hey, is your friend around? I have some news for him.” She puts the call on speaker and asks him to proceed.

“So, I looked into the death of Liam Jones for you. Are you ready for this?”

“Aye, mate.”

“There’s definitely something fishy going on. Eyewitness reports say that Liam was last seen on the night of November 19th. He entered a local pub at 8:00pm and left some time around 10:00pm with a female companion. His neighbor confirms that Liam remained in his flat all night and that the female left early the next morning. Police found his body face down in the Atlantic at noon on the 20th.”

“I was told it was a boating accident.”

“Here’s the thing. The harbor master says that Liam’s boat was docked all morning. He never went sailing." Killian is overwhelmed by this new information and hastily pulls the car over before he hyperventilates. Graham is all but confirming his suspicions that Liam's death wasn't an accident. "Not only that, at around 8:00am, a neighbor claims as he’s leaving for work, he hears muffled voices in Liam’s flat. He knocks and the voices stop. Are you still with me, mate?”

“So the official report is utter tosh! He can't bloody well drown in his own home!"

“Exactly. My contact says there are boxes upon boxes of evidence collected at various crime scenes over the years that simply cannot be accounted for. If anything can be traced back to Gold, it mysteriously disappears. There are apparently several suppressed pieces of evidence surrounding your brother's death. This evidence includes a cane, blood spatter, and long dark hairs, all recovered from his home. Granted, a hair seems pretty inconsequential, until you hear the alleged DNA results.”

“They belong to his wife, Milah, don’t they?”

“Crickey! That's right. How did you know that?” 

“Because I had an affair with her.” His voice is laden with regret and Emma pats his thigh to reassure him. He can’t find the words, so she is the one who divulges the entire Milah/Neal theory that she and Killian have constructed.

“Fuck!" They can both hear the frustration heavy in Graham's voice. "Sorry, I don’t swear often. Killian, I need to get you here ASAP to place you under police protection. You’re a witness and your life could very well be in danger, regardless of the whims of an ex-lover.” He stops listening to Graham and takes a ragged breath. He passes the phone to Emma and wanders off down a path where he sits and finally has that mental breakdown that’s been creeping up on him for days. Her heart jumps to her throat as he collapses on a patch of grass.

“Emma, is he okay?”

“No Graham! You just told him that his ex was involved with his brother’s murder! His world is crumbling around him. He is not fucking okay!”

“The two of you need to expedite your journey, I can’t protect you all the way from Maine.”

“I know, Graham, I’m working on it.” 

“No, you’re not, Emma! I know you. You’re too busy playing house with this guy to realize how much trouble he’s actually in.”

“I’ll take care of Killian. You just need to do your goddamn job and keep piling up evidence. I have a new name for you to look into, a man by the name of Jefferson. I don’t know his last name, but he owns a shithole bar in Raleigh called _The Rabbit Hole._ We just left there, he seems shady and could be a goon of Gold’s.” She relays the conversation she overheard in the restroom.

“Em, that’s not much to go on.”

“Yeah, but you’re a super sleuth! I have to check on Killian. I’ll text you with the last name.” She bids Graham goodbye and finds her travel mate hiding in some tall grass bawling his eyes out and punching the ground.

“I’m a fucking idiot! My brother is dead because I thought with the wrong head! I killed my brother, Emma! I killed my flesh and blood! He got me on my feet and this is how I repay him.”

“No, you didn’t! Gold and his whore of a wife killed him.”

“Yeah, and where was I? Passed out drunk in my bed mourning the broken heart left by the bitch that killed him. What I don’t understand is why Liam? To punish me? Did he have dirt on them? Did she sleep with him? Why in the hell would he leave a bar with Milah? He hated her. It makes no sense? My head hurts, Swan.”

“I know. And I’m not trying to be insensitive, but we need to get back on the road before Jefferson and his drug posse catch up with us. Surely one of his thugs has a vehicle.”

“I’m not getting in with you, Emma,” he sadly replies.

“Fine. I’ll sit here with you.”

“Graham’s right, you need to get home.”

“No, he’s wrong. If Gold wants to find me, Maine is the first place he’ll look. We continue on as planned."

“So stubborn. You really should trade for a rental if it makes you feel safer.”

“No, you know what? Fuck that! I say we give the middle finger to the Gold/Cassidy clan. I don’t want to live my life in fear anymore. I’m free to do as I please. I said I would do this journey my way, and by God, that’s what I’m doing. And there’s no way in hell I’m leaving without you. We’re a team! And I…” The words fail her as his broken blue eyes refill with tears. She pulls his head onto her lap and strokes his hair. She proves she is capable of sitting in silence as she soothes him. After a few minutes, he raises his head and runs his own fingers through his hair. 

“You still want me?” His question has deeper implications than a shared ride to Boston. _More than anything!_

“Of course! But, Killian, answer one thing for me. “Why did you need that money so badly?” 

“To pay you back, Emma.” With those five words, her heart explodes with emotion. She begins choking on her own tears. He wanted to pay her back to prove his worth. He risked his life to confront a terrible man with a checkered past. She can’t dry her eyes with her hands quickly enough. She grabs his face and presses her lips to his, holding them there for several moments. 

“There’s no one like you, Killian. I could search for a hundred years and never find anyone with a bigger heart. Can’t you see how special you are?” 

“Yes. I’m so special I risked the life of someone I care about to appease my foolish pride. I don’t want to think of the consequences if you hadn’t been so observant at the bar.” He helps her to her feet and agrees to captain the vessel yet again. He starts it up and they are Virginia bound yet again.

“You were wrong, ya know, back there. I read the warning signs with Neal perfectly. I just chose to ignore them.”

“Gods, I’m sorry, that was an asshole thing to say…”

“No! It led me to the bathroom, so all is forgiven.” Her phone rings. “Dammit! It’s Graham.”

“Ah, yes, the angel of death.” She rolls her eyes.

“Graham?”

“Emma, tell me you weren’t talking about Jefferson Hatter?!” Killian leans over to listen.

“Aye, mate. That’s his name.”

“Mallacht mo chairt ort!” They hear him banging something metal behind him, possibly a filing cabinet. The angry sounds are followed by a very decipherable “Fuck me in the ass!”

“ _What_ did he just say? I thought he didn’t swear often, but his mouth is filthier than yours, Swan.”

“Beats me, he goes into Irish mode sometimes, but apparently he likes anal now?” Killian smirks at her.

“Emma, you two eejits are going to give me an ulcer!” 

“Have a cracker mate, that usually helps me.” She smacks the back of his head.

“Where are you?” Graham asks.

“A couple hours outside of Virginia Beach. We have reservations tonight at the Oceanaire.”

“Nice. They have several amenities, very clean. Wait! What the fuck am I saying? I’m meeting you there.” She can hear the jangle of his keys.

“Uh, no you’re not!”

“Yeah, I am! I’m not the one who was thick enough to befriend a drug lord who’s wanted for murder in three different states! _Damn._ The feds have been looking for Jefferson for years and you waltz into his compound and play a fucking game of pool with him! If he’s truly working for Gold, you might as well paint a bullseye on the lot of ya!”

“You have no jurisdiction in Virginia.”

“No, but I can make some calls. I won’t interfere with their investigation, but I can help protect you!”

“Don’t tell daddy! Please. It’ll only make things worse. I don’t need him in Prince Charming mode, sweeping in to save the day.”

“What am I supposed to tell him?"

"Make something up!"

"Fine. But you have to do something for me. Stay put at the hotel until I get there.”

“Fine.”

“And Killian? I’m sorry about your brother. I can’t imagine the grief you’re feeling, but please, watch over Emma with your life. There’s no one else like her.”

“No, there isn’t, mate.” She stops to observe his features and the faraway gaze in his eyes is one of pure adoration with a hint of something more. Logically, she knows they've known each other less than a week, her heart just doesn't care. _Shit! Don't hurt me, Jones._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No smut this chapter, but it shall return in chapter 9.


	9. A Day at the Beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killian and Emma spend a day at the beach enjoying each other's company while knowing their world is soon to change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is purely shameless smut before shit hits the fan! If you're looking for plot, I'd skip to the next chapter.
> 
> "They’re two flawed people in a very fucked up world, but the way his mouth moves against hers is absolute perfection."

They crawl into bed that night with weary hearts and frayed nerves. Killian safely drove them to Virginia, but Emma can’t recall a single detail from the last leg of their journey. The past twenty four hours have triggered a myriad of emotions within her. Killian must feel the same as he flashes her a tentative smile and they wordlessly snuggle closer under the protection of the crisp hotel linens. They drift asleep with their limbs entangled, clutching to one another for dear life.

Emma wakes at dawn to the Virginia sun seeping through their tenth story window; the pinkish hue illuminating Killian’s sleeping form. The sheets have dipped below his waist during the night, leaving him exposed from the waist, up. He’s tucked in on his good side and eerily still, so she places a hand upon his rib cage. It triggers a deep breath from him as he rolls onto his back. Watching him in a peaceful slumber is balm to her nerves as she relishes in the repetitive rise and fall of his chest. She threads her fingers through the dark sprinkling of hair to rest her palm directly above his heart, feeling its steady thud beneath her fingertips. Somewhere between beef jerky and dirty roadhouses, she allowed this wonderfully complicated man into her heart. Had they met under normal circumstances, there would be dinners and date nights, not broken ribs and death threats. She wonders for a moment if the chemistry surging between them would be as all consuming if they’d met at a library or a coffee shop. _Of course it would._ Emma’s heart aches with an uncertainty of their future together. The thought of returning to Maine, while he resides in Boston, leaves her with an uncomfortable churning in her gut. She mindlessly etches shapes onto his pale skin with her index finger and he opens one eye to peek at his appraiser. 

“You’re such a creeper.” _God, his voice is sexy when he’s groggy._

“I’m just admiring the view.” Her palm goes flat and he places his hand on top of hers. The warmth from his fingers causes her lids to momentarily close and an involuntary sigh to escape her. He turns on his side to meet her eyes. 

“Lass, you’ve got a perfectly nice ocean view to gaze at if you'd simply roll over and look behind you.” He twirls his index finger in the air.

“No, I think I like this better.” She wrinkles her nose then presses a kiss to his lips. He cups her cheek, teasing his thumb across the apple of it.

“Did yesterday really happen, love? It feels like a dream.” He pauses to drag his thumb to her lower lip. “Well, part dream, part bloody nightmare.”

“It did. But, we’re here now. Safe and sound.” She presses a kiss to the pad of his digit.

“Aye, that we are. Until your ex boyfriend comes to join the party.” He groans, but she suspects it’s from inconvenience rather than jealousy. Their journey is approaching its end and they just want to enjoy their time together.

"There's no stopping Graham when he's in super sleuth mode. Best case scenario, a bunch of baddies get put away." He wrinkles his nose.

"Worst case scenario, we all die horrible deaths."

"Really? That's what you're going with?"

"Gold will find me, I can feel it in my bones. I guess if I can throat punch Jefferson, my death will be worth it."

"Oh, no! _I_ get the first crack at that asshole!"

"I'd imagine neither of us will get our licks in if super ex swoops in to save the day." _Jones, he has nothing on you._

“Funny. I don’t see him anywhere.” She hikes her leg up on his hip and pulls his body flush against hers, careful not to put too much pressure on his chest. “Good thing too, because I really don’t think he’d enjoy finding me sucking you off.” She wags her eyebrows and seductively glides her tongue across his lower lip for emphasis. Her hand travels down the expanse of his chest, exploring lower and lower until reaching the waistband of his boxer briefs. 

“I’m sorry, did you say…” She pauses before dipping her hand inside to squeeze his thickening manhood. “Oh!” She runs her thumb across his tip and feels him shudder and tighten beneath her touch. “Are you sure you want to? I didn’t even have time to shower.”

“Shut up, sailor!” She plunges her tongue into his mouth and they engage the dirtiest of kisses as she grinds her body against his. She swears she could get herself off from only the press of his thigh between hers. He’s fully erect now and throbbing in her hand. Lust completely fogs her brain as he divests her of her tank top and dips down to suck a hardened peak into his mouth. She releases his cock to lay him fully on his back and straddle him. She braces both her hands against the headboard as he pleasures her mounds with his mouth and hands. Her pelvis is shamelessly seeking release by writhing against his upper thigh. He must sense her desperation and chuckles darkly.

“Do you need release, my Swan?” He stops his ministrations and dips both hands down the back of her underwear squeezing her ass.

“Fuck, yes. You know I do, Killian.” Her arms are quivering from holding her body weight off of his chest. 

“Take off your panties, darling.”

“But, this is about you-”

“Please take them off, love, it’s about _us._ ” She sits up and her arms sag with relief. With his help, they delicately slide them down her legs.

“Ah, now that’s much better.” He winks and drinks in her naked form as she feels him twitch beneath her. It triggers an ache that now only he can soothe. He confidently rubs his thumb across her clit and she hisses. He brushes it a couple more times before pulling away.

“Don’t fucking tease me, Jones!”

“I don’t intend to darling. I do intend to wring pleasure from your body until you can’t think straight. Now, scoot up and straddle my face, love.” Her expression has to be displaying her lack of bravado, because he chuckles at her shock.

“I’m sorry, you want me to do what?” _Do people really do this in real life? I thought this was a porno thing?_ He gazes at her, oozing swagger and mettle in those deep blue pools.

“I want you to straddle my head with those lovely thighs of yours, while I taste every part of your delicious quim with my tongue.” She gulps at the thought and while his tone is indeed cocky, he is attuned to her trepidation.

“Darling, you don’t have to, but I can make this feel amazing if you’ll allow it.” Her heart is pounding and her thighs are trembling with desire. She’s never been confident enough to ride someone’s face, but the thought of doing this with him makes her limbs weak. She gingerly slides up his torso until she is close enough to feel his warm breath against her core. “I have a limited range of motion, love. You’ll have to help me out. Don’t be afraid to fuck my face, love.” He begins by placing his thumb against her and firmly stroking. She’s embarrassed by the gush of wetness that at this angle is impossible to hide from him. He gives her one of his primal growls that turns her insides to jelly. She decides to goad him into making more of them.

“Come on Jones, you act like you’ve never seen girl parts before, are you gonna tongue fuck me, or just stare all damn day?” He laughs and the warmth from his breath stimulates her even more. 

“Did you just say _girl parts_? I’m sorry for laughing, but I never know what plucky expressions are going to pass your lips.”

“Speaking of lips, are you ev-” Her mind goes blank when his tongue enters her to begin thrusting in earnest. She’s experienced his oral skills before, but the combination of his fingers and tongue working in tandem below her is otherworldly. She wants to thrust against his face, but holds back in fear of hurting him. As always, he reads her thoughts.

“Emma, my love, don’t hold back. I want you to take your pleasure. Ride my tongue and don’t stop until you’re coming on my face!” This gives her the confidence to experimentally rock back and forth against his mouth. He takes his cues from the way her body moves and adjusts his nips and sucks accordingly. She vigorously bucks and thrusts against him, feeling like an absolute Goddess in her ecstasy. He must sense she’s close and encourages her to fall over the edge by increasing the pressure.

“So close, baby!” she squeaks. The coil inside her is tightening so quickly, she can feel her ears ring. When he roughly sucks her clit into his mouth, she explodes. She has no idea what words leave her mouth, but she knows they’d make a sailor blush. The force of her orgasm is so strong her knuckles fade to white from clenching the headboard. After working her down from her high, he gently lays her back on the bed.

“You alright, darling?” He pushes her hair from her sweaty forehead. 

“Yes. I’m still throbbing from that, Killian. You’re incredible.” She places his hand above her breast, so he can feel the rapid tattoo of her heart. “It’s not fair though, I was going to pleasure you.” 

“I thoroughly enjoyed that, darling, believe me.” He pauses to take a deep inhale. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.”

“It makes my cock hard and my heart soft when you call me _baby._ ”

“Shut up! I did not call you that!” She props herself up on one elbow. _I totally think I did._

“You did too, love.” He points a playfully accusatory index finger at her.

“Oh, and what? No one’s ever referred to you as “baby,” before? Because I call bullshit!” She slaps his finger away.

“It’s never sounded like _that,_ before.” The tone in his voice is hopeful, if not just a little shy. She responds by firmly kissing his lips. “Seriously, Emma.” He chases her lips for another. “What are we doing? What is this between us?” She pulls his lower lip between her teeth until his delicious pink tongue tangles itself with hers. After a moment, he pulls away with a pop. “I have to confess that I’m not keen on ever leaving your side. What are you thinking in that beautiful head of yours?”

“I don’t know, Killian.” _It’s only a half lie._ Her words strike him like a bucket of ice water, sobering him instantly. He pulls away, propping himself against the headboard and looking more broken than angry.

“After all we’ve been through, I deserve a better answer than that.” She sits across from him, deciding if she wants to run away or climb into his lap. She chooses the latter.

“I don’t know what to say. You know I have feelings for you. As the saying goes, I don’t want to fall unless I know someone is going to catch me.” She twines her legs around his back and runs her fingers through his hair.

“I’ll catch you, Emma. You know I will. You’re more than a passing fancy. I-” She presses a finger to his lips and pleads with her eyes for him not to reveal anything too heavy for her to process right now.

“Killian, let’s just say that I am yours. Until fate or circumstance tells us otherwise.” She meets her forehead to his. He scoffs.

“You mean _when_ fate tells us otherwise.” His voice is dripping with melancholy and she knows he’s as uncertain of their future as she is. He just needs reassurance, an anchor in the madness of the past week. They are the same in so many ways.

“Shush. I will have no negative thoughts while there’s a beautiful beach awaiting us.”

“You promised Graham you wouldn’t leave the hotel.”

“It’s walking outside and around the corner, not flying to Bangkok!” He shakes his head at her as his arms gather around her waist.

“Right now, I’m keeping you here with me. We’re going to lay here a bit and do absolutely nothing.”

“Absolutely nothing, huh?” _Like hell._ She begins to nuzzle his neck, softly nibbling at the delicate skin when he gives a sudden snort.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’m a tad ticklish there, lass.” He wrinkles his nose.

“Hmm, where else are you ticklish?” She works her way down his chest, scraping her teeth across a nipple in the process. He hisses and his cock twitches to life once again. He roughly grabs her hips and growls like an animal as he flips their positions leaving her on her back with her arms pinned above her head. He realizes his mistake in an instant.

“Fuck me! Son of a bitch, that hurts!” He releases her arms in favor of curling on his side and clutching his chest. “Gods, you have no idea the things I wish to do to you and the manner I wish to do them, love. It’s incredibly frustrating to operate at 60% of your sexual capacity.”

“Well, your 60% is better than most men at 100%. Do you need a painkiller?” She soothingly massages his shoulders. 

“I’d better not until after I eat.” She smirks.

“Pretty sure you’ve already eaten, sir,” she whispers in his ear.

“I’m not talking about the feast between your legs.” They both begin to laugh. “I’ve created a monster, that was not an innuendo!” She slaps his ass.

“Alright, sailor. How ‘bout I procure us coffee and pastries while you soak your weary bones with a hot shower. When I get back, we’ll hit the beach.”

“A shower and coffee sounds delightful, but are you sure you should be out alone?” _Always the protector, he'd drive a pregnant woman crazy!_

“There’s a coffee shop right next to the hotel, I’ll be fine.”

“Fine. If you’re not back in twenty, I’m coming to look for you.”

“Deal.” She seals the promise with a kiss. She’s disappointed to be left unsatisfied, but understands his predicament. She slips on a pair of shorts and Killian’s discarded shirt and heads for the coffee shop.

She discovers she’s missed the early morning rush. The aroma of chocolate and coffee beans invades her nostrils, making her mouth water as she steps into the small queue. A few minutes pass before the next customers come in. It’s two frat boys playing around with each other as one of them meets her eye.

“Good morning gorgeous, how are you?”

“Fine,” she curtly answers.

“I’m Arthur.” He extends his hand and she shakes it. 

“Em-ily.” She responds.

“How long are you in town, Emily?”

“A few days...I’m actually here on my honeymoon.” _A little white lie never hurt anyone._

“Your husband is a lucky guy.” He looks crestfallen. 

“Um, thanks.” She ponders why in all of her years with Neal, she was never hit on. Not once. After less than a week with Killian, the men notice her everywhere she goes. She doesn’t look any different. In fact, this morning she didn’t even have time to brush her teeth or apply makeup. She racks her brain thinking of what has changed. She looks at herself in the mirror behind the counter and studies her reflection. She suddenly notices how at ease she looks. She’s stronger and happier. Even through her messy hair and wrinkled clothes, she exudes confidence. That is the difference. She’s happy. Through the strife and drama of the past week, the silver lining is the independence she has found. She places their order and she tips and winks at the cute barista as he hands her their coffee and pastries.

She returns to the room to find that Killian is still in the shower, and he’s singing. _Of course he can sing, let’s just add to his list of perks._ As much as she would love to climb in with him, she refrains, in lieu of calling Ruby. It goes straight to voicemail. _Strange._ She leaves a quick message, asking her to call back. She wolfs down her apple turnover in record time and chugs her coffee when Killian emerges, wrapped in a towel.

“Well, what do we have here, you little pirate? So much for waiting for your boyfriend.” They both freeze in the realization of his words. Neither speaks, and he can only rub behind his ear. In true Emma fashion, she bolts. 

“Sorry, I smell awful, I’m going to shower, too.” One inside the safety of the bathroom, she allows herself to feel the weight of his words. _Boyfriend, he said boyfriend. Can you even throw a label like that around this soon._ She paces the tile floor before stepping under the warm spray of the shower, her mind racing like a sprint car. _Is this what I want? Is he what I want? He’s not perfect, he has skeletons. Then again, so do I._ She moans when the soap reaches the apex of her thighs. She imagines the strokes of his tongue from earlier as she washes away her arousal. _Without the sex, could we still be something real? Do I want to be tied down by a relationship this soon? Then again, dad said he loved mom the first time he spoke to her. Gah!_ By the time she has finished brushing her teeth and hair, she has convinced herself that it was a slip of the tongue, and that Killian couldn’t possibly want her to be his girlfriend. It’s been an emotional and tumultuous week and he’s confused. She opens the bathroom door and her convictions flee her every thought when she sees him propped against the headboard, eating his blueberry muffin a pinch at a time. He’s wearing only his swim trunks and she openly stares at him. 

“I’m taking your advice and savoring my food, love.” His raven hair is still tinged with dampness and there’s a smudge of blueberry on his nose. _Damn you, Jones! You’re too damn adorable._

“I see that. I’m going to get my suit on.” She grabs her red two piece and scurries back into the bathroom. _God, he looked enticing. And sweet, and endearing and totally fuckable and…_

“Lass, are you okay in there?” He gently taps on the door with his knuckles.

“Fine. I’ll be right out.” _Here goes nothing. You can’t hide in here forever. You have to make a decision. Now. Don’t string him along._ She throws on her suit and makes her exit yet again, only to be greeted by a solid chest.

“You’re behaving oddly, love.” He is standing at his full height now, his blue eyes disregarding her bare midriff in favor of looking for signs of distress on her face. It’s that one gentlemanly action that decides her next move. She presses a soft kiss to his cheek and slinks toward her duffel, retrieving a bottle of sunscreen. She flips it in her hand a couple of times before tossing it to him.

“My only problem is that I need my _boyfriend_ to lotion me up.” He takes the offending item and chucks it across the room. It takes two strides for him to reach her and slam his lips onto hers. Her body melds against him. They’re two flawed people in a very fucked up world, but the way his mouth moves against hers is absolute perfection.

“Do you mean it, Emma? Truly, is that how you see me?”

“Yes. I’m sorry I freaked out, I just needed time to think and-” He cuts her off by kissing her again.

“Killian,” she pants. “There is so much to talk about, so much uncertainty…”

“Aye. And we’ll face it together. I will be at your side, no matter what the next few days bring. We’re a team, Emma.” She’s exasperated and giddy as she grips his forearms.

“My God, Killy! Are we insane? We’ve practically just met, but I feel like I know you better than I’ve ever known anyone. How is that possible?”

“Love, have you ever heard that it is quality not quantity that matters?” She nods and pulls him into a warm embrace, breathing him in. “And right now, I’d love to take my lady to the beach. You in?”

“Absolutely!”

```````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

They walk hand in hand until their toes touch the warm sand. Emma lays out the towels as he lotions her up. They’ve barely gotten settled as a man approaches them.

“Emily, we meet again. This must be the husband.” Killian looks to her with a knowing smirk before extending his hand.

“Killian Jones, mate.” The man shakes his hand and slaps his arm.

“I’m Arthur, you’re a lucky man, Killian. Listen, we’re having a party down at the pier tonight, the two of you are welcome to join us.”

“Awe, that’s sweet. If we get time, we’ll stop by.”

“Sounds great, I hope to see you then. You two enjoy your day.” Emma can feel the blush of embarrassment as Killian looks at her.

“Who was that wanker and how exactly are you acquainted with him?”

“He was hitting on me in the coffee shop this morning, I told him I was on my honeymoon.” He pulls down his sunglasses, revealing those gorgeous blues.

“And yet he persists in his pursuit. You are quite a little vixen! If you recall, you said I’d be a bad boyfriend for similar reasons.”

“Please, I already told you I didn’t mean that! Besides, when it comes to attracting the opposite sex, you still hold the record, Mr. Threesome!”

“Oh, I don’t think so, darling! Why, I’ll bet that if left alone, you could get double the digits that I could.” She scoffs in disbelief, crossing her arms.

“Whatever.”

“Do you seriously doubt your sex appeal, love?” He lifts those damn eyebrows and she swears he could hold an entire conversation using only them.

“Yeah, I’m so sexy that my first boyfriend treated sex like a chore and the second had an affair behind my back for years. My milkshake definitely doesn’t bring all the boys to the yard.”

“I don’t know about your milkshakes, but what about your honey traps?”

“Killian, they are pervy criminals who would drool over anything with a tight dress and a pair of tits. With them it's an act, a role I play. You’re the only person I’ve ever actually been sexually overt with. I'm just comfortable with you. I feel free to be myself.”

“While I’m flattered immensely, I think you need to embrace your sexual awakening.”

“You mean like you? Prancing around like you know what you’re about!”

“Aye, exactly! But I’m not the one who pleasured myself on a picnic table! It takes real gumption to do that.” Her face turns beet red with embarrassment, yet again.

“Ah, those lovely cheeks always betray you.” He lovingly taps each cheek and the tip of her nose.

“Shut-up, Jones. Just lay there and soak up the sun.” 

They lay there side by side, her fingers brushing his casually. Her eyes are hidden behind her sunglasses but doesn't fail to notice that nearly every male that passes them, looks their way. _Maybe he’s onto something..._

“See, love. They unabashedly stare at you, even with a handsome chap like me at your side.”

“Maybe. Or maybe they just have a thing for rugged scoundrels.”

“While I am a sight to behold, no one can hold a candle to your beauty.”

“You’re biased.”

“No, I’m one lucky bastard and I have a plan, love. A wager, if you will.”

“Go on...”

“I propose we go on a quest to see who can get the most attention from the opposite sex. Winner gets to plan the evening.”

“No way! First, I don’t want to see a bunch of tramps with their paws on you and second, I don’t have a chance in hell of winning this!”

“I’d start by walking past the group of thirty-somethings 100 yards east ogling your breasts.” She sits up abruptly, covering her bikini clad breasts with her hand.

“They are not!”

“Are too! Not that I blame them. What time is it?"

"Eleven."

"Perfect. We have an hour. I propose we split up and meet back here at noon to count our booty, so to speak.”

"Are you for real?" _He can't be serious. This has backfire written all over it._

 _"_ I never joke when it comes to bets." She pinches the bridge of her nose.

“I cannot believe I’m agreeing to this. Fine. No writing down fake numbers. And no physical contact!” They shake on it and before their hands disconnect, a few college age girls approach Killian. _Unbelievable, he’s not that good looking is he?_

“Um, excuse me. Could you grab our Frisbee, it landed right behind you.”

“So it did.” He grabs the Frisbee and hands it to the blonde of the group, letting his fingers linger. _These poor girls don't stand a chance against Killian in full swagger._

“Um, would you like to join us for a game?” Her friend chimes in.

“Yeah, if your girlfriend doesn’t mind.” They gesture to a disgruntled Emma. Her boyfriend is grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

“Oh, her. That’s my sister. She doesn’t mind. I’d love to.” _That stupid asshole. Fine. You want me to get my flirt on, you’ve got it, sailor. Game on!_ She stands and removes her shorts. She walks to the edge of the water. Killian is tossing the Frisbee with the girls with his charm turned all the way up. She battles with her insecurities, but knows that he will remain true to her. This is all in good fun. She stops in front of the breast oglers. She playfully bends over to “wash” her hands in the water. It’s a hot day for May, so the cool sting of sea water invigorates her. She wades in far enough for the waves to splash her thighs. In a matter of minutes, a guy named August approaches and introduces himself. He’s tall and handsome with a fair amount of scruff and blue eyes. _Not Killian’s blue, no one else’s are that color._ From a distance she feels Killian’s eyes on her as she turns her flirt up a notch. She giggles at everything he says and squeals when he splashes water on her.

“You are by far the prettiest thing I’ve seen on this beach all week! Care for a swim, doll-face?” She slips into her ditsy routine.

“Well, I really don’t want my hair all wet.” She flips her blonde locks behind her shoulder, exposing her neck.

“Then maybe I could take you someplace dry.” He reaches out for her hand.

“I, uh-” She hears someone approaching her and is relieved to spin and find Killian.

“Killy. You’re back. August, this is my brother, Killian. Killian, August. He invited me for a swim, wasn’t that sweet of him?” She puts a hand on August’s chest. _Oops, that was physical contact._ She knows that Killian is jealous, but to his credit, he doesn’t go “caveman” on her. Instead, he asks her to bid farewell to her new friends and leads her away.

“Boom. I win the flirt off! You're right! All four of those dudes were into me.”

“Oh, I’m sure all of them wanted in you! Especially him!”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous. Besides, it’s barely been twenty minutes. Think of what I can do with another forty!"

“Yeah, well, I’m calling it off early. Let’s swim.” They walk out to a depth that's nearly at their shoulders when he pulls her body close to his and they engage in a salty kiss.

“Why dear brother, I’m sure we’re confusing the masses.”

“Fuck the masses!” He pulls her in for a deeper kiss, running his hand down the back of her suit. “See darling, I told you that you’d win. Show me their numbers and we’ll make the win official.”

“I didn’t write them down, you pulled me away too soon!” He tsks at her.

“Then, too bad, darling. I guess I win, after all. On this napkin I have the numbers of not one, but three, different lasses. One of these lovelies invited me to her room.” She tempers her impulse to wad up the napkin and toss it into the ocean, and opts for the calm approach.

“Lucky you, looks like you have your afternoon planned, I’ll go see if August is doing anything.” She pretends to splash away, but two strong arms wrap around her waist. He huskily whispers in her ear.

“The only company that git will have is the caress of his own hand.” He presses kisses down her neck, sucking hard on her pulse point. Her head rolls back and she feels his erection pressing into her back. Until this moment, she hasn’t seen him as the sexually dominant partner. But if the firm squeeze of his hands on her waist and the love marks he’s leaving on her neck are any indicators, she’s about to experience the aggressive side of him. Her body shivers in anticipation. “Only I will get the pleasure of plunging into your depths.” He has the decency to face them away from the shore as he plunges his right hand down the font of her suit and begins to pump his fingers inside of her while biting down on her shoulder. She writhes against him.

“Killian, yes, I want you. But not here, take me back to the room.” Without question, he ceases his movements.

“As you wish.” 

They make it to the hotel lobby but the line to the elevator is outrageous. His jaw is ticking and the tent in his trunks is painfully obvious. “Fuck it, follow me!” He leads her to the family bathroom and bolts the door behind them. She throws their beach bag down and they both strip naked. His desperation is comical until backs her into the sink. His eyes are serious and dark, with a hint of danger underneath that makes Emma shiver. 

“Turn around and face the mirror lass, you can watch as I fuck you from behind.” She obeys. “Good girl. Now stick that lovely little ass out farther.” Again, she obeys and she’s met with a firm slap to one of her cheeks. “Now, let’s see how wet you are for me.” He glides his cock through her folds and groans. “Mmmm, you’re positively dripping, Emma. It makes me want to lap you up with my tongue first.” She moans at the prospect.

“Please!”

“Next time, darling. Right now, I’m going to fill you with my cock.” One thrust and he’s fully sheathed within her. She gasps at the welcome intrusion. She can do nothing but grip the sink and he pounds into her relentlessly. It feels good, but something is off about him. His body is present, but his mind is elsewhere.

“Killian, wait.” He stops mid-thrust before completely pulling out. She spins around and looks at him. His cheeks are flushed and he’s struggling to catch his breath. She places her warm palm to his cheek. “It’s okay, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. Look at me.” It takes him a moment to focus on her face. “Slow down and kiss me, Killy.” And boy does he ever. He plunders her mouth so thoroughly, her heart feels it might explode with emotion. He is slow and gentle and every brush of his tongue conveys the words that neither of them dare to speak. His hands gently tilt her head back so he can press warm, wet kisses to the expanse of her throat. She sits on the sink facing him, praying it doesn’t snap off the wall. She wraps her legs around him and he enters her again, slowly this time, never losing eye contact. “There you are. Do you feel that Killian?” He nods. “Do you feel how perfect we are together? He holds his breath and nods again. "You're mine."

“I'm yours, Emma. My heart and body belong to you." He hisses, obviously struggling for composure. "Love, forgive me, I’m wound so tightly, I can’t hold on.”

“It’s fine, my love. Kiss me then come inside me.” He does just that. She feels him spasm while she runs her hands through his sweat soaked hair.

“You didn’t…”

“Someone told me earlier it’s about us.”

“Aye, that it is.” When he sees the bruises from earlier, he winces and backs away.

“Crikey! Emma, your neck. Gods, I’m sorry. I got a mite carried away.” She loves how his accent thickens with concern.

“It’s fine. Really.”

“No, it’s not. I left teeth marks on you! Why didn’t you slap the shite out o’ me?”

“Because I liked it, okay? It felt amazing! You felt amazing. No one makes me feel like you do, you stupid, stupid, man!”

“I just need more tact when leaving bruises on your body. The neck wasn’t the best course of action, nor was taking you in a freaking bathroom. What the hell was I thinking?” 

An angry mother with two screaming children starts to pound on the door. The lovers right themselves and decide to head up to their room. The elevator ride is silent as they approach their floor. When they enter the room, she takes him by the hand.

“Killian? Where did you go earlier?”

“What do you mean, love? I’ve not left your side.”

“In the bathroom. You just mentally checked out.”

“Oh, that. Just a lot on my mind. Thanks for bringing me back to my senses.” He presses his lips to the back of her hand.

“You can tell me anything.” 

“Nothing to worry your head about, lass. I’ll be fine.” He pats her head. The last time he did this, she lost her shit.

“No, no, no, strip!”

“Again? Lass, I’m spent.” His voice cracks like a prepubescent lad.

“Not like that. Strip and put on some comfy pants.” He does as she asks and she does the same. “Now, climb in bed and let me hold you.” He again acquiesces. She pulls the sheets over them and she runs her fingers across his scalp. “Talk to me, Goose, what’s on your mind.” It's a long while before he speaks, when he does, his voice is small.

“Losing you will break me, lass. You know I don’t let people in. I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop and you to realize that I’m worthless. I know what I was doing at the beach. I was pushing you toward other men to prove that you’d leave me for someone else. But, when I saw you with that guy, I got selfish and couldn’t let you go.”

“Why would I leave you? You're my boyfriend. Yeah, the word scares me, but I’m not afraid of my feelings for you. Look, I don’t have a crystal ball. I have no idea what the future holds for us, but I have no interest in other men. I just want you, Killian Jones. We can take care of each other.”

“Aye." With every scratch of her nails, his eyelids grow heavier and heavier until he’s completely out. She continues to lovingly caress his face, long after she hears his soft snores. Being with him seems wild and reckless, but the feeling of rightness has been there from the start.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	10. Sweet Virginia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma fulfills something on her bucket list, but feels the sting of betrayal from someone close to her. Meanwhile, a new acquaintance isn't what he seems.

She leaves a whisper of a kiss to his forehead before grabbing her phone and walking toward the hotel balcony. She slides open the heavy glass door and takes a sobering breath before dialing Ruby. The call to her friend proves fruitless as it goes straight to her voicemail. “Where are you Rubes?” she whispers. Her stomach feels tight, as if she’s swallowed a lead weight. _Something has to be amiss._ She paces back and forth inside the room with her arms wrapped tightly around her middle. Emma debates between waking Killian or calling her mother. Mary Margaret Nolan is the last person she wishes to speak with, but it’s absolutely necessary to get some answers. She mutters a pep talk to herself before dialing. She picks up after the first ring.

“Emma! Hi sweetie! Where are you?” The saccharin tone to her mother's voice is almost more than she can handle at the moment.

“Virginia Beach. I’m nearly home, mom.” _That was upbeat, right?_

“That’s so nice! I’ve made up your old room. If you can make it in time, we have dinner with the Mills family Monday night.” _Oh goody._

“Yeah, mom. That sounds lovely." She scrunches her lids in frustration and gently taps her phone against her head a few times. "Hey mom, do you know if my friend Ruby is in town, yet?”

“Ruby? No, I haven’t seen her. Should we be expecting a visit?” Emma's blood runs cold. _Ruby isn't coming to Storybrooke._

“She said you helped her get a waitress job and found a place for her to stay.”

“I'm sorry Emma, that just isn't true. Are you sure you didn’t misunderstand?” _Shit, shit, shit! I have to involve dad._

“Mom, is dad there?”

“Yeah. Why?” _Oh, sweet ignorance._

“I need to talk to him.”

“Sweetie, I really-” _Damn it!_

“Mom, put dad on the phone now!" _Ok, that sounded rude._ “Please.” She hears her mother mumbling in the background before her father greets her.

“Daddy?” She tries to stifle the fear induced quiver in her voice. Her supposed friend is either dead or has been playing her for a fool!

“Yes? Emma, are you okay?” _Here goes nothing._ She takes a deep breath.

“No, daddy. My friend Ruby Lucas may be in trouble.” She breaks down and divulges the summary of the past twenty four hours.

“Graham! Why that little shit!” Rarely a man to spew obscenities, trepidation and anger are clearly laced into her father’s voice. _Of course his deputy hiding things from him is his main concern._

“Don’t be mad at him, I told him not to tell you.” 

“Emma, you have to stop hiding things from us. What if this Jefferson guy would’ve hurt you? Your mother and I would’ve been devastated. If we ever found you, that is! We raised you to make smarter choices.”

“I had Killian with me, dad.” She omits the fact that her new boyfriend is more of a lover than a fighter.

“Sounds like this Jones guy is the reason you’re in this mess.” She hears the telltale sign of a laptop booting up and a keyboard clacking. _Seriously?_

“Dad! Really? You’re running a check on Killian?! I assure you, he is not the bad guy!” She pounds her fists against the hotel wall.

“I’ll be the judge of that! What if he’s one of Gold’s henchmen luring you into a trap?” _Bed maybe? Not trap._

“That’s ridiculous!”

“What if Neal paid him to follow you?"

"That's not what's fucking happening!" She never yells at her father, but she has to defend Killian's honor.

"Language, Emma! It's obvious what's happening. This guy is using you! More importantly, how can you defend a man you've just met?”

“Because I love him!” Her cheeks are hot to the touch and she doesn't even try to retract the words after they pass her lips. It's too late to back down, so she braces herself for the inevitable scolding. David Nolan waits several moments to respond and the sound of his silence is deafening. When he does speak, it's not the yelling she expected, but calm rationale.

“Well, now you’ve lost your senses completely. People don’t fall in love after a week, princess. Mark my words, this guy will break your heart." His smugness upsets her. She's not a child anymore, she knows what love feels like. "Thank goodness you’re coming home. You need time to process your breakup with Neal, not rebound to the first penniless drifter you find.” Emma feels the warm tears stream down her face and she has to admit this has been the most emotionally challenging week of her life. But, as much as she respects her father, she knows in her heart he’s wrong about Killian. 

“He’s not some loser, he’s a good man with a good heart.” David doesn’t respond to her weak defense, but she can hear him talking to himself.

“Ah-ha! I was right. It says here that one Killian Alistair Jones was recently discharged from the navy for drug use. No warrants, but one arrest a few years ago for public indecency. Emma, get away from this guy. Fast.”

“Daddy, _this guy_ has a name. It's Killian. You don’t know him and I don’t care what your damn files say!” She kicks the wall in frustration of being treated like a headstrong teenager, which she fears her father will always view her as.

“We'll discuss this at home. Just be careful, princess." She hears him exhale a helpless sigh. "I’m relieved that at least Graham is on his way. We’ll talk to Archie about everything when you get back home and therapy will help us put this whole messy week behind us. I’ll look into Ruby’s whereabouts for you."

“Thanks, dad.” She leaves the conversation feeling utterly defeated, sobbing into her hands for a few solitary moments until she shakes herself out of the stupor of self pity. _Maybe dad is right. This could be too fast. What if Killian isn’t what he says? Is this a rebound? What on earth am I thinking?_ The questions continue to swirl in her mind as the sun starts to sink lower into the sky. A warm breeze blows through the open glass door, making her rise to her feet and gaze out to the ocean below. Weary beachgoers pack up their belongings and beach umbrellas are tucked away by hotel staff. She looks out onto the water at the few scattered vessels in the distance. _Killian would love this view._ She allows herself to get lost in a daydream of ships and blue eyes before her phone lights up.

“Graham?”

“You told your dad everything! Unbelievable! I thought you wanted to keep this a secret? Thanks for stabbing a friend in the back, you tattletale.”

“I didn’t have a choice, my friend Ruby could be in trouble.”

“You’re right about that! Your dad thinks she's in on it, but he's quite the skeptical fellow. Hell, I just think she's dead!"

“Wow, what a positive attitude you have, jerkhole!”

“My positive attitude left when you started playing pool with drug dealers and dating wayward sailors.” _Ouch. Fine. I’ll play along. Refuting will do no good, anyway._

“You left out engaged to the son of a murderer.” 

“Emma Nolan sure knows how to pick em’.”

“You’re on that list too, pal!”

“Oye, but neurotic deputy would be the last on that list. Shite! Your dad is calling me, again! I’ll be there at midnight.”

“You do realize this could’ve been a text.”

“I’m an officer of the law, I do not text and drive!”

“Over and out deputy Humbert.” She smiles and shakes her head. Maybe she would’ve been better off if she’d never left Graham. She knows she regrets every minute spent with Neal. Then, she glances at the man peacefully asleep on the bed and instantly changes her mind. _Everything has led me here, I wouldn’t trade him for anything. Rebound or no._ She treads softly to his bedside and whispers in his ear.

“Sleeping beauty, time to wake up.” She nibbles on his earlobe.

“Hmrmp,” he mumbles. 

“Killllllyyyyy,” she softly sings. She nuzzles his neck, pressing light kisses to it.

“Few more minutes, love.”

“If this is how you plan an evening, then I demand a new boyfriend.” He peeks one groggy eye at her. 

“You put me to bloody sleep with your scalp massage, I blame you entirely.”

“I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry.”

“And you’re always sleepy.” He opens his other eye and sticks out his tongue, grabbing the covers and pulling them up to his ears. _If you can’t beat them…_ She clambers under the warm sheets and snuggles next to him. She just gets cozy when her stomach starts to rumble.

“I propose room service darling.”

“That’s your idea of date night? Lame," she teases him.

“Allow me to finish. I propose room service, followed by ice cream on the boardwalk and a moonlit walk on the beach. We can close the evening by utilizing that hot tub in the corner and making love till dawn.”

“I think that could be arranged. Now pass me the room service menu.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They’ve had such a wonderful evening together, that neither wants to acknowledge the sense of impending doom surrounding them as they walk hand in hand down the boardwalk. Emma constantly glances at her phone. Still no response from Ruby. 

“Everything okay there, love? You seem vexed.” He squeezes her hand.

“It’s Ruby, I haven’t heard from her since she left Florida. She lives on her phone, it’s not like her to blatantly ignore me.”

“Maybe her phone died during travel?”

“Maybe. Something just feels off.”

“I trust your instincts, Swan. Should you alert your dear deputy?” He softly nudges her shoulder.

“He knows. I called dad earlier, while you were napping.” He quirks that damn eyebrow at her.

“Uh-huh, and what else, pray tell, did you do while I was napping.” He stops and faces her, placing both of her hands in his.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Jones?”

“Aye, I would.”

“I told my dad about us.” _Don’t say anything else, Emma._ “And he ran a background check on you.” _You suck, Emma._ "And he's pissed at me." _Stop talking!_ Killian drops her hands and runs his own through his tousled locks.

“Bugger! I take it the navy stuff popped up.”

“Yeah. But, it’s fine. I’ll just have to explain it to him in person when we get home.” 

“We? And where is home, love?” Killian looks longingly at her.

“Honestly, wherever you are, Killian.” He faces her with those sad, earnest eyes and twirls a blonde curl between his fingertips. “You could come with me to Maine.”

“Do you _want_ me to come to Maine, love?”

“I want you safe. You heard Graham, no place is safer than Storybrooke." 

"It might work. Wherever I end up, I refuse to continue being a sycophant."

"Like you could ever be a burden to me, dummy. I’m just scared they’ll separate us.”

“Who, love? Your parents?”

“The feds. What if they put you in witness protection or something? Gold’s involved in some pretty messed up shit. Your testimony could help put them all away, especially Jefferson.”

“Easy solution. I’ll simply ask that you come too, we can start a new life as Mr. and Mrs. Heffenpheffer.” She gives him a skeptical eyebrow. “What? It’s vastly more unique than Jones, love.”

“Killian Heffenpheffer?”

“No, no, no, that’s Frederick to you.” She shakes her head and laughs at the ridiculous man in front of her.

“Come on, Frederick! Enough talk, I want some adventure.” She takes his hand and leads him down to the water. It’s well past sunset, but the beach is illuminated from the hotels adoring the shore. She suddenly peels off her dress and shoes and stands before him clad only in her undergarments.

“I want to swim.”

“What? Now? You've turned into quite the exhibitionist. Love, you do realize it’s May in the Atlantic, right? ”

“Are you going to join me?” She gives him a come-hither gaze over her shoulder.

“Bloody hell, woman, the things you talk me in to!” He strips to his underwear and follows her lead.

“Holy shit! It’s really cold!” Emma shouts. He screams like a prepubescent boy himself as he wades in after her.

“Bloody buggering fuck! This is sheer madness!” When he is waist deep she walks over to him, winding her arms around his neck. She presses their bodies flush and kisses him full on the lips. He responds by grabbing her thighs and wrapping her legs around his waist, hauling them out into deeper water. 

“This is kind of scary, we’re out pretty far, Killy.”

“Aye. We might see a shark.” _Shark! Hell no!_

“I think I want to go back now.” She presses her feet down onto the soft sand of the ocean floor.

“Wait, don’t move Emma!” He grabs her elbow and she freezes, knowing her eyes must be comically wide.

“Daaa-dum,” he chants. He pulls her forward with a menacing look in his eyes.

“You can’t scare me with that shark shit!” 

“Daaa-dum,” he repeats. _It's nice to see him playful and carefree._

“Knock it off, you turd.” She finds herself clinging tightly to him, anyway.

“Turd? What are we? Eight? Besides, a shark isn’t crazy enough to swim in this frigid nonsense." She giggles, but they both pause when something brushes up against their calves. They look to each other in panic and splash as quickly as they can toward the shore. They waste no time throwing their clothes over their wet undergarments and sitting on the sand.

“You were scared!” She points an accusing finger at him.

“Too right, lass, I wasn’t taking any chances out there!” He laughs at himself and takes a long look at her as she wrings the water from her hair. 

“What?” she asks.

“Nothing,” he says. “Just thinking.”

“About what? How ridiculous that was?”

“No. How lovely you are.” His lips, slightly chilled from the water, move effortlessly against hers. She can taste a hint of salt and can feel the emotion behind their kiss, even if neither admits it. He breaks the kiss first. Before she can chase him, he poses a question to her.

“You know? There’s a tattoo parlor up the boardwalk if you're game?”

“Absolutely! But, I left my sketch in the car.”

“I can draw you another.”

“Then, lead the way Killian, I mean, Frederick.” As they continue on down the crowded boardwalk, they pass Arthur.

“Hey, Emma! Are you going to make it to our party?”

“No, Killian and I are going to stay in tonight, thanks for the invite, though.” Arthur gives a slight nod and continues on.

Killian leads her inside the shop, but the buzzing sound is intimidating and her nerves almost get the best of her. He wraps a protective arm around her waist and whispers in her ear.

“Swan, you’ve got this.” The attendant speaks with her and they pair her with an artist. Killian shows him the swan sketch and Emma debates on where to place it.

“What about your hip?” Killian suggests.

“Nope, bad idea, sailor. After birthing five children, that swan will look like a stretched out meth-goose!” He and the artist share a chuckle.

“Wait, five? Woah, woah, woah, when did it jump up to five again, love?”

“Hardly the point Jones, you’ll just need a bigger dinghy!” The artist casts a quizzical look to a pink cheeked Killian. 

“She’s referring to my vessel. Real vessel, I mean, not my, er, penis.”

“Hey man, no judgment. Can I make a suggestion on the ink?”

“Yes, please," she replies.

“I say wrist or ankle.”

“Let’s do wrist.” Emma is satisfied with her decision. The artist does some measuring and is ready to begin.

“Alright then, hold out your arm.” He goes to work. Her features are tight with apprehension, but Killian's focus doesn’t leave hers. He's warm and steady, providing her with soothing words and calm caresses. He startles when a redhead steps up behind him and runs her fingers through his hair.

“I have a few minutes, what are you getting, sugar?”

“Oh me? I-I’m not, I’m just here for my ah-girlfriend.” _Maybe I can talk him into one..._

“Why don’t you get one? I thought every navy man had a tattoo.”

“Not this navy man, I’m not a fan of needles.” He pauses and lowers his voice. “Reminds me of my mother being sick.”

“Oh God, I’m sorry. I am so insensitive!” _Way to go, Emma._

“Don’t be. I don’t mind getting one, I just don’t know. I certainly couldn’t watch the process.” The artist smiles, knowing that his decision can be swayed.

“I’ll be right back,” she says. She returns with a small design book for him to thumb through.

“What should I get?” 

“If you ask me, every sailor needs a compass tattoo.” The redhead winks at her own suggestion.

“Or what about an anchor? That would fit you perfectly!” Emma chimes in.

“May I sketch you something?” the artist asks. Killian agrees and in a few moments, he’s holding a sketch in his hands. He passes it to Emma who deems it perfect. It’s a compass rose that dips into an anchor.

“Forearm?” he asks the artist.

“Kill, you don’t have to.” Emma pleads with him, making sure the decision is entirely his.

“Aye, but I want to.” The woman summons him and places him in a chair across the room from Emma. He looks absolutely terrified. Emma’s artist finishes her up and gives her care directions and she is immediately at his side, holding his hand.

“Are you okay?”

“Aye. I’ll be fine.” He scrunches his eyes shut like a small girl getting her ears pierced. 

“Of course you will, your strength is one of the many reasons I love you so much.” She marvels at the ease in which she shares these feelings. The "L" word doesn't usually come into play until she's several months into a relationship.

“Emma?” He opens his eyes, but just barely.

“Yes. I said I love you, Killian Jones.”

“I love you too, Emma.” After a breathy exhale, he moves to kiss her but the redhead stops him.

“Woah, there, pal! You can’t move like that! Ya’ll can suck face when I’m done.”

“We’re doing more than that,” she whispers in his ear. They wait patiently as his tattoo is finished and wrapped. They walk hand in hand out of the parlor, giggling and giving each other secret smiles, looking like a couple very much in love. They stop in front of their hotel and he gently kisses her lips.

“Shall we enter, my love?” He gestures to the turnstile doors of the hotel.

“We shall.” She moves in for another kiss but halts, her blood suddenly running cold in her veins.

“He called me Emma!”

“Pardon? Who?” Her palms tap his forearm in rapid succession.

“Arthur! I told him my name was Emily, when he passed me, he called me Emma.” Not one to panic, Killian begins looking all around them for any signs of abnormality.

“Shit! We should get inside!” He links his hand inside the bend of her elbow, but she pulls away.

“No, we need to go to the party and find out who the hell he really is and how he knew my real name.”

“Oh no, we don’t! We’re not bloody messing around with any of this, Emma! We’re in way over our heads.” Emma nods and grabs Killian's arm when the man in question, Arthur, makes a sudden appearance. 

“You’re right about that. We should get inside, it’s not safe out here.” Killian steps in between Arthur and Emma in a protective stance.

“First, you’d better tell us who you really are, mate.”

“Arthur King, FBI, at your service.” He whips out a badge for them to see. “Now, I’d rather speak in private if you’d be so inclined.” _Fuck!_ They head upstairs to their room. Killian and Emma sit on the bed while Arthur appraises them. As he's speaking, Emma can’t help but feel like a complete fool. How could she have ever thought this guy was college aged? He makes an official sounding phone call to someone with a deep voice before speaking to Emma directly.

“Emma Nolan, so we officially meet at last.” He holds out a hand that she reluctantly shakes. _This is a fucking fed!_

“I’m sorry, you know me? I mean, really know me?” He smiles and backs away, putting a comfortable distance between them.

“I'm friends with Graham. Good guy. He’s been keeping me abreast of your plight.” He turns to Killian and clicks his tongue. "Son, you must have nine lives. No one crosses Robert Gold and live to tell the tale. Killian, is that right?”

“Aye. That’s me. How long have you been following us?"

“Just since your arrival. Listen kids, I'm sorry about all of this, but to put it mildly, you’re in a shitload of trouble. We’ve received intel that Robert Gold and his son are both here in Virginia to tie up some loose ends. Killian, you are that biggest loose end. Unfortunately, we believe that Emma became a target the minute she picked you up. 

“I'm so sorry, Emma.” He hangs his head in shame. She reaches for his hand and rubs her thumb against his knuckles.

“Killian, Neal would’ve come after Emma regardless in order to negotiate a reconciliation.” Arthurs assures him. “You’ve just made things, well, _interesting_ by melding Neal and Robert’s agendas into one. I hope reconciliation is all he has planned for her now." _Fuck his agenda!_

“Agent King, you honestly think he’d let me live after I rejected him? Guess again. And Killian, we’re stronger together. Picking you up was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I regret nothing.” A knock at the door has Emma squeezing Killian’s hand tighter. They hear a muffled plea from the other side. It’s Graham, early as usual. Arthur leads him in.

“Oye, I have to piss, I’ve been on the road chasing down you lot for far too long.” As he’s entering the bathroom, Emma shouts at him.

"Thanks for telling me I was being followed by the freaking FBI, Humbert!"

"You're welcome! Now, we're even!" he shouts. She needs to ask Arthur an embarrassing amount of questions, so many, that she hardly knows where to begin. She stands and walks to the balcony, abruptly shutting the blinds with paranoia coursing through her system.

"Agent King, what do we do?"

"Start at the beginning, tell me everything you know. Both of you." She and Killian take turns sharing their past experiences with the Gold family. Killian, of course, has information that is more beneficial to the case against him. Emma thinks it is a bad sign to see an agent of the law sigh in frustration.

"Give me a minute kids, I need to speak with my team." When agent King is on the phone, Emma's starts to ring in her hands. Arthurs motions for her to ignore it, but she's been waiting too long for this call.

“Sorry, I have to get this, it’s my friend. I think she’s either working with Gold or is a pawn. Maybe both.”

“Put them on speaker,” Arthur commands. _Fine._

“Rubes, where the hell have you been?”

“Sorry, my phone died. Whatcha up to, or shall I say, _who?”_ Emma is at the end of her tether and has no time for sexual jokes. How did she never notice that every word out of this woman's mouth is either sexual or teasing? In fact, she struggles to think of one deep conversation the two have had and she hates herself for being so ignorant of the truth that was so blatantly placed in front of her. _Ruby is not my friend._

“Killian and I are in Virginia Beach for a bit.”

“Ooh, what hotel?” _Shit! She’s really in on it!”_ She ignores the question, in favor of changing the subject.

“Guess what? I got a tattoo!”

“Oh, em, gee! Daddy Nolan is going to kill you!”

“It’s just a swan and dad will be fine. Listen, Rubes, I have a serious question. Have you heard from Neal lately?” She can sense how uncomfortable Ruby is, even over the phone.

“I, uh, no. Not since the other day when I sent him on a goose chase to Cali. Why?” _Lies. This whole friendship has been nothing but lies._ Emma looks to Arthur and he nods his head.

“I just wanted to talk to him, make sure he’s alright and everything.” The necessary fib tastes bitter on her tongue. “If you see him again, tell him to get in touch, I-I, uh, m-miss him.”

“Will do.” She should hang up the phone, but her anger and frustration propels her forward, desperate for answers.

“By the way...I talked to mom, Ruby. She knows nothing about you coming to Maine.” _Silence._

“Momma Nolan probably just forgot.” _Bitch!_

“Mom never forgets.” _Refute me again, I dare you._

“Hey, Em I have to go, this ah, damn battery won’t stay charged.” She laughs uncomfortably. “Bye, hun.” Emma rubs her face with both palms. She is an utter fool.

“Ruby's their informant. They know our every move because I told her. Shit, I’m an idiot! My own damn friend.” Graham sits next to her, sandwiching her between him and Killian. He pats her thigh.

“Let’s load up, I’m getting the two of you out of here, Emma.” She nods and looks to Killian who shrugs his shoulders and stands to retrieve their bags.

“I don’t think that’s wise,” Arthur chimes in.

“Why the hell not, Arthur? They gave you valuable information, now go arrest the bastards while I take my friends home.” Graham goes into supercop mode.

“It’s not that easy, Humbert. They will find them. You can’t protect Emma or Killian on your own, deputy. And I can’t make an arrest until I have more evidence. My team and I need these two to help me.”

“What?!” Killian and Emma shriek in unison.

“With your help, I could put some bad men away for a very long time. I’m here to make a proposal.” _No! I want to go home!_

“Go on.” Killian urges.

“Bait Neal. Emma could get a powerful statement from him...”

"NO!" Graham and Killian shout in unison.

"Bringing in untrained civilians n hastily slopped together sting would be disastrous, Arthur, you know that!"

"I'm out of options, deputy! This is the closest we've ever came to nailing the bastards!"

“Using the woman I love as bait? No bloody way in hell! Use me, instead” Killian's eyes are dark with anger as he stands to his full height. His jaw is clenched so tightly, she can hear his teeth grind. Meanwhile, Graham’s eyes are still blown wide with shock.

“No! They’d shoot you on site, Killian!” Graham shouts. Emma steps in with an impassioned plea of her own to the agent.

“Graham's right! Killian is in no condition for a confrontation. They have no reason to want me dead. Use me. Besides, I’m in bail bonds. I know how to steer a conversation.” Killian angrily turns to her.

“Over my dead body, Emma Nolan! There's a difference between horny old men and cold blooded murderers!" She steps into his personal space.

“It _will_ mean your dead body if you show your face around that monster, Jones!”

“I don’t bloody fucking care!”

“Guys!” Arthur shouts. “Emma, perhaps it is better if you do this.”

“Absolutely not!” Killian stands up lunging at Arthur. Graham steps between them, lightly pushing Killian back.

“Killian, please. Let’s take a walk.”

“I don’t need a walk, mate!” he spits. Arthur grabs the front of his shirt and Killian hisses from the jerk.

“Then sit your ass down and listen to what I have to say. You and Emma may speak in private afterwards.” Arthur's impassioned plea and physical contact grounds Killian enough to sulk against the wall in the corner of the room. Arthur then makes his request to Emma.

“Rest assured, Neal is looking for you, Emma, and he'll will want to approach you alone. Make yourself accessible tomorrow. Do some shopping, hang out on the beach. Converse with him and mention that you want to get back together."

"Like hell I do!" The thought of even a fake reconciliation is vomit inducing.

"It's your job to convince him. Tell him the caveat is that you’ll need full disclosure on the Gold family activities.”

“He’ll know I’m with Killian. He won't fall for it.”

“Pretend it’s over. It was just a rebound, act like he’s cheated on you, or something.”

“Oye, don’t decimate my character with your shotty allegations!” Arthur rolls his eyes at him.

"Make something up, just don't end the conversation without a confession. We'll arrest him and work on a confession of our own. We think we can crack him. He'll still be raw from his girlfriend's death."

“Can we hurry this up? We’re taking a risk just being in the same room together. Who knows where Gold has eyes and ears.” Graham states.

“He’s right. As a precaution, Killian, we’re going to need to separate you two tonight,” Arthur says.

“Ha! Try it, mate!” He accentuates every syllable with malice. This time it’s Emma who steps in.

“Gentlemen, give me five minutes alone with Killian.” The men turn to each other and nod.

“Fine. I’m in Room 802, Killian you can stay with me tonight. Graham can watch over Emma.” She pretends not to see Killian seething from his spot on the floor. I’ll send Graham down with the supplies in ten minutes, kids.”

“We’re not children, mate!” he bites.

“Then buck up and start acting like a man,” Arthur states. The two men leave behind a disgruntled Killian and an oddly calm Emma. She slinks to the floor next to him.

"So much for that hot tub, huh?" He snickers at her remark.

“Emma, this is a bad idea. I can feel it, the same way you knew the bar was a bad idea. I can’t leave you alone with Neal.” He puts his legs straight out in front of him and fiddles with the wrapping of his new ink.

“Killian, my conversation will be monitored the entire time. I’ll get him to confess and Arthur will slap the cuffs on him.”

“Things are never that easy, love.” He lovingly cups her cheek, stroking it with his thumb.

“Arthur is right though, we’ll never be safe until they’re behind bars. We have to do something before others lose their lives.”

“Aye, but I shan't apologize for my rotten attitude. I can’t stand you being thrown out as bait and I don’t want to feel helpless in protecting you.”

“Hey, I meant what I said earlier. I love you, Killian. I’m coming back to you. This is to ensure our future together, if you still want one, that is?”

“I love you so much, Emma!” He crashes his lips to hers, wasting no time in properly tasting her. She can still detect a tinge of salt and his desperation shakes her to her core. Still on an adrenaline high, they kiss like it's the last time time their lips will ever meet. Honestly, it very well could be. He glides his hand under her shirt until he meets the baby soft skin of her abdomen. She whimpers beneath him. “I need more time to worship you properly, ten minutes isn’t enough.” 

She kisses his cheek and retrieves her phone from its resting place on the foot of the mattress. She shoots Graham a text that says _20?._ He responds with a head slap emoji and the word _whatever._

 _"_ What can you do with twenty minutes, sailor?" She slowly strips for him with a slight sashay, motioning for Killian to do the same. He is at half mast already and her limbs are trembling as they walk toward each other. He gingerly brings his fingers to her neck.

“You’ll have to hide those tomorrow, love."

“I will. Tonight, I plan to give you some of your own." She drags her tongue down the cords in his neck, sucking firmly as she travels to one of his nipples. She feels him hiss and twitch in response. He backs her up to the bed, wordlessly laying her upon the mattress. He kisses down her body, and Emma knows where he’s headed. She doesn't leave him much time to worship her with his tongue, before she gets impatient. “Wait! As awesome as your mouth feels, I just need to feel you inside of me. Make love to me.” He places a large pillow beneath her before crawling up her body, laving wet kisses along his path northward until he reaches her lips. She is lost in the sensual dance of their tongues when he surprises her by hiking her leg up to his waist. He enters her heat in one swift, perfectly angled thrust. Her core clenches around him and her breath exits her body. They never lose eye contact as she drags her fingers through his scruff and presses their foreheads together. Nether speaks, which Emma knows is odd for them, but words aren't necessary when the man above you knows how to wring pleasure from your body the way Killian does. She wants to scream out, to praise him for feeling so fucking awesome, but those gorgeous blues lock onto her, and Emma is speechless. She loves him, truly loves him! To prevent the tears from pooling, she nibbles on his lower lip, then begins kissing him ever so thoroughly. She’s never felt so complete, cherishing every plunge and kiss as their bodies gently work in tandem. She can feel his heart beating erratically above her, but their desperation is tempered by his slow measured thrusts, hitting her deeper with each advance. She's so close and knows he's not far behind her. He shifts slightly with his pelvis brushing her in the most perfect way, and she silently falls over the edge. He follows her immediately with a small grunt and a stuttering breath. He rolls to his back, holding his side and panting.

"Are your ribs okay?"

"Aye, but my forearm is a little sore and this damn plastic wrap is bothersome."

"It's always something with you, Jones."

"Aye, it is" He takes a few calming breaths. “Love?”

“Yes?” She rolls to her side and props her body with her elbow.

“Remember when you asked me my favorite position?”

“Yeah.”

“That was it.” She giggles and kisses his nose.

"A vanilla missionary guy, after all, huh?"

"Yeah, yeah, gloat all you want, love." Emma's timer alerts them that their time together has come to a close. They both groan as they rise and dress. Killian gathers some personal items to take to Agent King's room.

"Emma, I'm not comfortable with what's going to go down tomorrow, but I know it must be done. Just promise me you'll be careful."

"I will."

"Don't leave this hotel without a wire."

"I won't."

"You must do what you can to get a confession, but I beg you not to call me an adulterer. Please."

"I would never say that."

"If he pulls a gun, run!" His pupils suddenly dilate. "A vest! Make sure they give you a bullet proof vest!" She reassures him by stroking his face and whispering words of love into his ear. A knock at the door shatters their reverie. He pulls on a tee over his sweats, ensuring she is dressed as well before he lets Graham in. Killian throws him a skeptical look.

“Look, Killian, I know you don't like me and what we're asking you two to do takes a great amount of trust. I swear I’ll take care of her, mate."

"You damn well better!"

"This whole thing will be over before you know it." Graham takes in their disheveled state and looks at the hotel comforter tossed carelessly onto the floor. "And don’t worry. I want no part of that bed!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! We're coming to the end. Full disclosure, I have two endings written. I'm deciding which one best fits the story.


	11. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma and Killian do their part to bring down the Gold family and make a decision about their future. 
> 
> Warnings for cursing, gun violence, minor character deaths, and physical aggression.

Emma has felt the sickening swirl of apprehension in her gut many times, but those pale in comparison to the way she feels sitting on this lonely park bench. So many people are depending on her to reel in her criminalistic ex boyfriend. She desperately tries not to think of the repercussions if she fails. The premise is simple enough- take Neal back, earn his trust, and get some sort of confession of his involvement in illegal activities. _Killian is right, there’s no way this will work._ She’s wasted an entire day parading around town trying to entice the asshole, to no avail. Emma has been shopping, lounged on the beach, and even walked the boardwalk wearing nothing but a bikini top and cut offs, but he hasn’t made an appearance. She crosses and uncrosses her legs for the tenth time, but settles for stretching them out across the bench as she pretends to read a book. The tiny earpiece that Graham installed this morning is irritating the shit out of her ear canal and she’s honestly ready to slam the damn thing down and call it quits. That is, until Arthur whispers in her ear.

“Target approaching at your 3 o’clock.”

“Shit, shit, shit!” she whispers.

“It’s fine. Stay calm, make him come to you.” How can she stay calm when everyone within a mile radius of her can hear how fast her heart is pounding in her chest? Sure enough, out of her peripheral, she catches a glimpse of a man that she never wanted to lay eyes on ever again. She keeps her nose in her book and takes deep breaths, waiting for the sound of his voice.

“Emma?” She peeks over her book, which is currently serving as her armor against assholes. 

“Neal? What the fuck are you doing here?” _Good, Emma. That sounded shocked._

“I’m actually on my way to Maine to find you, Ems.” She would rather rub her knuckles over a cheese grater than be called that awful nickname.

“Ruby told you where I was, didn’t she?” _Bitch!_

“Don’t be mad at Ruby. She was only trying to help two lovers reunite.”

“I am not your lover, Neal.” He sits next to her, boldly pushing her legs off the bench and drapes his right arm across the back of it in a possessive gesture. _How did I ever date this jerk?_

“That’s right. I hear you’ve taken on a new lover.” He removes the book from her hands and closes it, wanting all of her attention on him. She snatches it away from him and places it on her lap.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes. His name is Killian. He’s a shipwright from Boston.” _And he’s twice the man you are._

“Oh, I know all about Killian Jones. He fucked around with my mother for a while. Admittedly, not one of her finer moments. Bet he didn’t tell you that.” She shrugs her shoulders, feigning indifference.

“He and I spend a great deal of time on our backs, discussions aren’t our _thing_.” She throws out air quotes and he smirks at her, twirling a piece of her hair around his finger. She pulls away from his grasp and slides farther down the bench.

“And where is the new beau?” His lips curl menacingly.

“Doesn’t matter.” She brushes off his question, perhaps a bit too quickly.

“So, this is just rebound sex?” She nods. “You sure about that, Ems?”

“Yes. You asswipe, but my sex life doesn’t concern you.” He chortles.

“Well good, because father is going to put a bullet in his head.” She gulps as she feels the blood drain from her face. She has to be exuding a look of total shock at this point. The thought of her Killian lying in a pool of blood shakes her to her core.

“My my, that is a strong reaction from someone who’s just using him for sex.” Emma wants to scream at Arthur and tell him she quits, but the thinking of Killian’s safety keeps her body pinned to this faded white park bench. She hears Arthur whisper in her earpiece. 

“Stay strong, Emma. Call his bluff. Killian is in my hotel room. He’s safe.”

“It’s just a terrible shame, Neal. He’s the best lay I’ve ever had. The things he can do with his mouth are positively sinful. I don’t want anything to happen to him.” She sees Neal’s expression change from sly and confident to that of an angry desperate man. He wants Killian dead and he’s using her to get to him.

“Where is he, Emma?” he bites.

“Sadly Neal, on his way back to Boston. The bug broke down, forcing him to hitch another ride. I’m killing time waiting for daddy to pick me up.” Neal pauses to appraise her features. He blanches at the mention of David. Though it’s a blatant lie, she steadies her breathing and looks him in the eye. His brows unfurrow and he nods. _He believes me._

“I told you that car was a pile of shit! You should’ve known that it wouldn’t make such a long trip. What were you thinking picking up hitchhikers?”

“What do you want, Neal? No bullshit. If you’re looking for Killian, you’re not going to find him here. Otherwise, I have nothing to say to cheating scum like you!” She makes a dramatic exit off the bench and heads in the direction of her hotel. She feels a sudden tug on her elbow.

“I need you back, Ems.” He gives her his best puppy face, and she’s tempted to punch him, sting operation be damned.

"What about the other woman?" She confidently crosses her arms for emphasis of dominance.

“Tamara? I dumped her. She’s just not you.” Emma cannot restrain her smart mouth any longer.

“More like your dad dumped _her._ ” She registers curse words in her earpiece from Arthur, while Neal’s features turn gravely serious. _Oops, I've fucked this up!_

“Come with me, we need to talk in private.” All pretenses are gone as he jerks her by the arm, roughly leading her down a deserted walkway and into an alley.

“About how your dad is a lying, murdering asshole?” He snorts at her.

“Like I said, we need to talk. My hotel is nearby.”

“Lead the way.” She nearly ends the phrase with douchenozzle, but doesn't think things would bode well for her if she did. Neal takes her two blocks over to half star hotel and ushers her into his room. It reeks of dirt and cigarette smoke, and she nearly laughs when realizes how much the place looks like a villain’s lair. He then locks and bolts the door behind him. Dread rises up in her as he fishes through a nightstand and pulls out a 9mm. He methodically fiddles with the trigger, never looking directly at her. She keeps one hand on the doorknob, even though he is capable of firing on her several times before she could even unlock the door.

“How much do you know?” he asks. She opts for the truth.

“Dad said they found Tamara dead. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what happened.” He shakes his head and tuts at her. 

“Oh, honey, I wish you didn’t know that. It puts you in grave danger.” He pauses. She needs to switch tactics very quickly, before a maid has to scrub her blood from the vomit colored carpet.

“Neal, I believe you truly loved her. What happened?” The gentle, coddling tone sounds so foreign to her when it comes to Neal.

“It was dad. He killed the love of my life. And now that you know, I have to kill you.” He raises the gun, pointing it at her chest.

"I thought you wanted me back?" She raises her hands in the air, hoping it makes a difference.

"Dad was hoping to salvage the relationship for the sake of the money, I see now that's not going to work." _No shit, Sherlock!_

“Just answer one thing for me, Neal. How did you involve Ruby?” He laughs out loud at her ignorance. While he’s holding his chest with laughter, she immediately replays every conversation she’s had with Ruby the past week. How much did she reveal? Emma can’t remember, but knows she'd give anything to leave this room.

“You stupid girl! She has worked for my family for years! Why do you think she befriended you? Dad and I needed to keep tabs on your whereabouts, and what better way to do that than with a built in best friend?” She feels sick, used, and utterly defeated. “Imagine how pissed dad was when she told us you’d picked up Jones. Talk about an unhappy accident. He has wanted him dead for years. Mom always stood in his way. Dude must have a golden dick or something.”

“Keep him out of this!” She steps forward and while his guard is down, boldly snatches the gun from his hands, aiming it at his head.

“Ha, I knew it! You actually have feelings for him. Jefferson was adamant that you did. You want me dead, princess?” Her hands tremble, leaving the gun unsteady. "You see Emma, you’re in too deep. There’s really no way out of this. You don’t have the stones to shoot me, and you know too much for me to let you leave here alive.” He steps forward into her bubble inching forward until her back hits the door. The firearm is now pressed firmly to his stomach and she knows she could end all of this with a simple pull of the trigger. “We could've made this work. I could've talked dad into keeping Jones as your little sex pet, but now it’s simply too dangerous.” He traces a finger down her face as the bile rises in her throat. She can feel his hot breath in her face and hear Arthur remind her to use the safe word at any time. She thinks of her sweet mother and father at home, relying on her to return. She thinks of the former best friend, whose ass she has to kick, and she thinks of her Killian. She’s getting out of this damned place alive! She makes the decision to pull the trigger. She closes her eyes, wincing as she waits for the resounding bang that never comes.

“Stupid bitch! You would’ve shot me if that thing was actually loaded!” He throws the gun on the bed and she joins it with a rough throw from Neal. He sits astride her and pins her arms above her head, while she thrashes wildly under him. She could say the safe word right now and end this madness, but she needs to get more of a confession out of him. “Now Ems, why do you have to be so difficult?”

“Why do you have to be so naïve, Neal? Your dad is the brains of the family! Why, you’re too stupid to hide a simple affair. What makes you think Robert Gold would leave his legacy in your hands? You could never ever pull off the disappearances he has and get away with it!”

“Oh yeah, who do you think killed Jefferson? Me. I popped that asshole in the back of the head. Pity too, he was our biggest distributor. You have no idea how powerful I am! It’s just a shame you won’t be around to watch us kill your boyfriend.”

“Good luck finding him, he’s probably in Boston by now.”

“We will find him, Ems. But, that’s one body that’ll never be found. Unlike his brother.”

“Did you kill Liam Jones?” He laughs a sinister laugh.

“Why Em, you little liar, you know more than you’re letting on. You really would make a good addition to this family.” He presses a rough kiss to her cheek. She manages to free a hand and scratches at his face. He pulls two zip ties from his back pocket and affixes her arms to the headboard to keep her from squirming. "There, I like you like this." He winks at her. 

"Liam Jones was too self righteous for his own good. He knew too much. I disposed of the body. Mom went to his pub and put a little GHB among other ingredients in his drink, courtesy of the late Mr. Hatter. She dragged him home and killed him. She only agreed to it to prolong Little Jones’ life.” Neal hovers over her while he gloats.

“I assure you he’s anything but little!” He growls at her just as a flip phone on the nightstand begins to vibrate and he backs away to answer.

“Dad, we’re good here...no, that’s a negative, I have to go code red...Warehouse...that was not the plan...stop leaving me out of things...look, I’m nearly finished here...wait for me, dammit!” While he’s arguing with his father, Emma repeats the words “Jolly Roger” over and over. When Neal hangs up, he is met by three federal agents beating down the door, cuffing him, and reading him his rights. He resembles a feral cat, scratching and biting every agent that comes near him.

“Fuck you, you little bitch! When dad hears about this, you and your whole family are fucking dead!” Emma ignores him and sags into the bed with relief. Graham sits next to her and cuts her ties. She sits up and rubs her wrists.

“You did well, you know. I’m proud of you.” He pats her leg.

“This place reeks, let’s get Killian.” Graham pulls away, shame etched onto his features. "Humbert, don't just sit there, let's go!"

“Emma, Killian isn’t at the hotel.”

“Then, where is he?” She looks at the clock, then stands in panic. _Please be okay. Please be okay._

"While you went after Neal, we wired him to go after Gold."

“What?! No, no, no, no.” Her emotions get the best of her and she can't stop the tears from streaming down her cheeks. _It's a joke. It has to be. Any minute he'll walk through the door!_ She clenches her fists and marches toward the door, leaning her head against it. _He'll never make it out alive._ She turns to scream at Graham. “How could you keep this from me?”

“Because we knew you’d never go through with what you did today, we needed you focused.” She balls up her fists tighter and begins beating the deputy with them, shouting obscenities as she does so.

“You’ve killed him! I loved him and you led him to slaughter! Where is he?”

“That’s the problem, we aren’t exactly sure. We saw a visual of him entering Gold’s SUV an hour ago, but we’ve since lost communication.” She rips her wires and earpiece out and throws them and her cell at Graham. She turns and runs out of the hotel, all the way to the beach where she collapses into uncontrollable sobs. She imagines Killian at the mercy of this madman and prays that he’s still alive. Her breathing becomes erratic when she realizes she may never gaze into his blue eyes again. The fear is suffocating! She jumps when she feels a gentle hand touch her shoulder.

“I swear to God, Graham…” She looks up to see it isn’t Graham, but a woman with short blonde hair, obviously a wig. She has a familiar face, but she can't put her finger on it.

“Emma, I need you to come with me.” She looks warily at the stranger. Emma's already had a gun pointed at her, been zip tied, and been betrayed by two friends all in one day. Her faith in humanity is at an all time low. 

“Who the hell are you, lady?”

“Someone who wants to keep Killian Jones alive just as much as you do. We have to move fast, your friends in black will find you soon. If you have a phone on you, leave it.”

“Where are we going?”

“To save a good man from my ex husband.” 

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_One Hour Earlier_

Killian knew better than to think he could outsmart Robert Gold. Yet, he tried. The last thing he remembers is throwing his earpiece to the ground and getting in Gold’s SUV. He vaguely remembers feeling a sharp pain in his neck. And now here he is, tied up in the middle of Gods know where. It is cold and pitch black, and he can detect the distinct odor of gasoline. His hands are stretched uncomfortably behind him and his legs are tethered to a metal chair, making his ribs scream out in pain. His mouth feels like cotton, hardly producing enough saliva to swallow. In fact, his mouth hasn’t been this dry since he woke up after Jeff’s naval party. _The man has some potent drugs, I’ll give him that!_ The industrial strength tape around his mouth is pulling against his facial hair, causing a sting with every movement of his jaw. He sits there for what seems to be an eternity, wondering if this is how it all ends. Suddenly, a garage like door opens and someone flicks on some harsh fluorescent lighting.

“Hello, dearie!” The voice alone induces a visceral reaction from within. He has flashbacks of their last encounter, the day he caught him with his wife. That is a day he's thankful that he never has to relive.

“So, I hear you’ve been playing house with my intended daughter-in-law. As you would say, _bad form._ ” He rips the tape from Killian’s mouth, and he cries out in agony. "You just can't keep it in your pants, can you? In fact, my harlot wife thinks we can keep you alive, but you can’t be trusted, can you, Jones?”

“I suppose not.” He runs his tongue across his chapped lips.

“However, I'm a reasonable man, so you get another chance. You see, I’m waiting on a phone call. A call that will inevitably change your life. If Miss Nolan agrees to marry Neal, then you may live. If not, then you both die!”

“If I’m alive, how do you know I’ll be compliant and not spill my guts to the police.”

“Because, if you’re not, I’ll make your lover’s life a living hell. I know men who would pay top dollar for a night with a woman like that.” Killian grimaces and wiggles in his seat.

“Over my dead body!”

“Exactly!” Gold giggles menacingly, clapping his hands, until one of his men shouts to him.

“Boss, your son is on the line!”

  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emma climbs into the passenger seat of a white sports car. The woman behind the wheel removes her wig to reveal a mop of messy dark curls. _Holy shit, it's her!_

“Wow, I didn’t recognize you at first, it’s been awhile since you’ve stared disapprovingly at me, Mrs. Gold.”

“Emma, can’t you see I was trying to push you away from this family, you stupid girl! I thought my coldness would push you away. I love my son, but getting knocked up by Robert Gold was the worst decision of my life. I wouldn't wish that fate on any young woman!” Emma runs her fingers across the warm leather interior.

"By the looks of it, you're doing okay." She scoffs.

"Money isn't everything. I think you know that already. However, money is the only thing that made a life with Robert bearable. In the end, even that wasn't enough."

"You got to walk away with your life, Milah. Not many people who cross him get to live." She swallows thickly as she thinks of Killian.

"That's the beauty of having a child who's devoted to you. Neal will always protect me, even from Robert." She grips the steering wheel and makes a hard left, tossing Emma to and fro until she buckles up out of fear for her life. _This woman is a maniac!_

"I think you overestimate your hold on him. The man just tried to kill me! He's full on psychotic. You talk about Robert being your worst decision, Neal was mine! He deserves to rot in jail."

“Neal snapped after Tamara died. Those kind brown eyes become cold and calculating. I begged Robert not to hurt her. I think he knew it would cause Neal to abandon reason."

"Neal never had reason! He cheated on me for years!" She takes a deep breath. "How could I expect any better of him, he had you as a role model." 

"Boo hoo, at least you got out before you were tricked into a pregnancy like I was.”

“What?" This is news to Emma. She knew Neal was unplanned, but never thought... "That’s disgusting! How?”

“Let’s just say that you should never take pills prescribed to you by Dr. Whale.” _Fuuuucccckkk! Well, that’s something else to worry about…_ Emma fades out momentarily erratically counting the days since her last period. _13, 14, 15...definitely 15._

“Focus, Emma. I can't help my son now, he needs to pay for his crimes. What matters is that as soon as Robert finds out about Neal being arrested, Killian will get a bullet in his head. Luckily, I know where they are.”

“Do you still love him?” Emma tries to temper her jealousy, dreading the woman's response. _If she loves him, does he still love her?_

“Yes. I do. I pushed him away to save him. I’ve never cared for anyone the way I care about Killian.” The wistful look on her face makes Emma sick with dread.

“You fucking killed his brother!” She's wondering if this woman has a screw loose, like everyone else in that family.

“I agreed to kill him Emma, but I secretly planned to let Liam go. He had an adverse reaction to the drugs I gave him.”

“That doesn’t matter! You drugged him! Do you really think Killian would take you back? Your whole family is toxic!”

“I’m not trying to win him back, dear girl. I’m trying to make amends for everything I’ve done!" She looks sincere, but it's really hard to say. Emma fears this could be a trap.

"It's a little late for amends, Mrs. Gold." Milah ignores the comment. Emma gasps as she slams on the breaks, putting her hand across her seatbelt in a "mom" move.

“We’re here, Warehouse One. Here, take one of these.” She reaches under the driver's seat and tosses her a handgun. “Do you know how to shoot?”

“Of course! How do you know they're here?"

"Robert isn't as sneaky as he thinks he is. If things go sour, tell the cops to contact a woman named Tina Bell. I gave her all the evidence I had against Robert and his circle. Her number is in the glove box written on a green post-it. She is a good friend of Killian's and mine." Emma rolls her eyes.

"Can it really be friendship if multiple orgasms are involved?" Emma mutters to herself.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


A thin brunette saunters up to him and points a gun to his temple. She runs the barrel down his jaw and Killian almost pisses in his pants. _This is it, I’ll see you soon, brother._ Instead of firing, she tucks the gun in the back of her skin tight jeans and takes a knife out, cutting his ropes. Killian stands, only to fall to the ground from his weakened limbs. She lifts him up and props him against a wall.

“Damn, you are way hotter than an 8. Emma was wrong about you, handsome.”

“You must be Ruby.” It's hard to keep his eyes open, but he knows he can't take his eyes off of this perpetrator for a second.

“In the flesh. Maybe you and I can have a go, later?” After another ill fated effort to rise to a standing position, he gives up and resigns himself to whatever fate awaits him.

“Not bloody likely. You lied to Emma, you betrayed her.” She catches him looking at the knife in her hand and she places it on a nearby shelf.

“Emma is nothing but a naïve girl. I am a woman.” She squeezes her assets and licks her lips. Not even if he was unattached would he be interested in Ruby. 

“Why did you free me?”

“Those legs of yours won’t be working for quite some time. It would be impossible for you to escape. Unfortunately, other parts won’t work, either.” She glances down to his lap while he strains to hear Gold’s conversation.

“I’m at the warehouse. Kill that stupid little bitch! I’ll take care of this one!” He puts the phone down and shouts to Ruby. “Kill him, Red! I have another call to make!” _Fuck!_

“With pleasure!” She grabs Killian by the shirt and throws him harshly to the ground.” His legs still feel like jelly and aside from some freedom in his arms, he’s helpless to move. Ruby blows him a kiss and points the gun at him. Before she can get a shot off, she is met by a fire extinguisher to the head. The person wielding it is an angry blonde that he knows very well.

“Emma," he squeaks. "Thank the Gods, you’ve saved me...again.” He manages to hold his torso upright for a few seconds before slumping back down on the warehouse floor.

“Killian.” He suspects there was a witty retort in there, but it is lost as she breaks down in his arms, kissing him for all she’s worth.

“What happened with Neal, love?” He lovingly strokes her face.

“They got him, I don’t have time to explain, can you stand?” They glance to the nearby office, where Gold is screaming at someone.

“Nope. Sorry, love." Then a whirl of dark curls crouches down next to Emma.

“Here, I’ll help, let’s get him to the car.” Emma and Milah pull him to his feet and lead him toward the exit.

“Milah! What are you dong? You killed my brother, you're a murderer!” He attempts to pull away from her, but discovers Emma can't handle his weight on her own, so he relents.

“Your brother’s death was an accident, but one I was responsible for it. I’m so sorry, Killian.” He jaw ticks and his teeth clench.

“That doesn’t bloody matter! Sorry can't undo the torment his death has caused me! It can't bring him back!” Emma turns to see Gold throw a chair across the office.

“Guys!” Emma pleads. “Let’s hash it out on Maury at a later date, right now we have to get the hell out of here!" They nearly limp Killian to the door when they hear a loud pop. Emma freezes in horror and the trio looks at one another to discern if anyone was hit. _Thank goodness, he missed._ They try to run, but he slips from their grip, tumbling to the ground and taking Emma with him. Milah turns to face the madman.

“That was a warning, dearies. You take one more step and I’ll choose which one of you dies first.” He points at Killian, but Milah steps in front of him.

“Robert, please. This is between us.” A loud shot rings out again and this time Milah crumbles to the ground, holding her abdomen. Killian catches her as she falls. 

"I really have experienced it all today," Emma mumbles. Her snark disappears when she sees the way Milah is looking at Killian.

“I’m sorry, Kill. I loved you, you deserve to know that. And while I’m responsible for Liam’s death, I swear it was an accident. Everything I did was to protect you. Take care of Emma, I have a feeling she’s going to need you to stick around.” Killian wipes the silent tears away. He can't forgive her yet, but doesn't wish death upon her.

“You’re fine. Hang in there.” While he’s holding Milah, Gold points the gun at Emma.

“Your turn, Ms. Nolan.” Emma is helpless. She sit up brave and tall, preparing to accept her fate, when there’s a loud bang. Gold falls to the ground in seemingly slow motion with a gunshot wound to the forehead. Emma looks around her to discover who the shooter is. Killian is now lying down with Milah’s smoking gun in his hand. 

“There, I got to save you for once, Swan.” She smiles and rushes over to an unconscious Ruby to pull the cell out of her pocket. She calls her own number in hopes that Graham still has her phone.

“Graham, it’s me. I need an ambulance, and agents, and probably a coroner. And coffee.”

“Where are you? Are you okay? You scared me, Emma."

“I'm fine. We're at a place called Warehouse One. Just get here, quick.” She runs back to Milah’s side, shaking her head at Killian as he comforts her and runs a soothing hand across her forehead.

"It's over, love. He can't hurt anyone anymore." He looks up to Emma. "She took a bullet that was meant for me, Swan."

"She risked her life for both of us. She really did love you." His silent tears have evolved into sobs by the time help arrives. An ambulance pulls up and loads an unconscious Milah into it. Emma insists that he takes one, too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few hours are a blur to Emma. Her head is a mess as she gives her statement to Arthur and at least a dozen others, passing along the information from Milah about Tina Bell. Gold is dead, Neal is in custody, Milah is in a coma, and Ruby may never recover from her head injury. She sits in a shitty hospital cafeteria, drinking shitty coffee, contemplating how shitty this day has been. It’s over, yet Emma’s healing has just begun. Killian is sleeping peacefully, at least, with only minor injuries.

"May I join you, lass?" Graham asks.

"Yes." She sighs and rubs her temples. She's still pissed at him, but refuses to stay bitter.

"Emma, I'm sorry I deceived you-"

"Stop! I get it. You had to. Thanks to Gold's wife, Killian is still alive."

"I would've never forgave myself if something bad had happened to him. He's a good man, and perfect for you, by the way."

"Ha! Tell that to my parents." She takes another drink of coffee, forcing the bitter taste down her throat.

"I did talk to them. They officially approve of your relationship with him." _Well, look who has a golden tongue!_

"I don't need their damn permission."

"No, you stubborn arse, but their blessing will make life easier on the lot o' ya. Of course, saving your life didn't hurt." He stops to rub his neck. "And you have my blessing, too."

"You're conceding defeat? My parents will hate to hear that. They want us back together."

"I sort of am already in a relationship." He squints his eyes and wrinkles his nose. Emma leans in, placing her elbows on the table.

"Oh? Who is she?"

"Um, _he,_ actually. Arthur and I met about a year ago and really hit things off. He and his wife had just gotten a divorce and friendship just led to something more."

"Congratulations, Graham. Is it love?" She's teasing at this point, but she's never seen him so boyish.

"Not there yet, I'm afraid. Not all of us experience love at first sight like you." It's her turn to blush. "Speaking of which, Romeo is waking up. I came to tell you."

"Thanks, Graham." She kisses the top of his head and rushes to Killian's side, just as he awakes. He looks emotionally drained. She longs to kiss the dark circles under his eyes and snuggle him while sleeping for days.

"My ribs are broken, can you believe it, lass?" She laughs, then feigns shock. He chuckles before continuing. "Are you okay, love?"

"I'm fine. Exhausted, drained, and in desperate need of a bubble bath, but fine."

“How’s Milah?” His eyes fall, as if he's ashamed to be asking the question.

“Not good, Killian. They don’t think she’ll make it. There’s little to no brain function. I’m so so sorry.”

“Not your fault. At least I got some closure.”

"When are they releasing you?”

“Tomorrow. They called my cousin, Belle. She and her idiot husband are on their way to get me.” Emma is hit with the stark realization that this conversation may not end happily. _Why would they call them? He's coming home with me._

“You’re not coming to Maine with me, are you?” He reaches out to cup her cheek.

“Emma, I love you. I bloody well want to…”

“But?”

“But, my head’s not on straight, love.” He reaches for her hand, but she pulls it away.

“You’re hiding something. Out with it, Jones."

“I’m not supposed to tell you, but I'm being relocated.”

“What!” _I fucking knew it!_

“I shot and killed Robert Gold. Agent King thinks I should lay low for a bit, just until Neal’s trial. Gold’s men have dispersed for the most part, but he feels I need to tuck my tail. ”

“How long?” She bites her lip waiting for his response. _A few months wouldn't be too bad._

“A year, two at the most.”

“Fuck!" She lays her head on the bed as he combs his fingers through her hair. "I’m coming with you, then.”

“No, you’re not. You need to heal too, love.”

“Why can’t we heal together?” He starts wiping the tears from her face.

“This is so hard, because I love you so damn much.” His voice breaks and she knows she's losing him. After everything they've been through, he's not waiting for her at the end of the tunnel.

“But you’re leaving me…”

“It’s not goodbye, darling. I mean it!” She stands at the hospital window on the brink of a mental collapse. 

“Whatever! You're breaking up with me because Graham's boyfriend told you to!” The look of mild confusion crosses his features and it would be endearing if she didn't want to scream right now. "Nevermind. It's not important. I agree with you, we both need therapy out the ass! But, I want you! I'll go wherever you go!"

"And that statement is precisely why I can't take you with me. The last thing you need is to put your life on hold to follow some guy. I can't be the next Neal." Emma Nolan is speechless-hurt, angry, and utterly speechless. “You're such a tough lass. You always have been. Not a day will go by that I won’t think of you.” She casts one more glance at the bed and runs to the elevator, desperately pushing any button that will get her off that Godforsaken level. Her brain goes on autopilot chanting the word "escape." 

She ends up on the maternity floor and is stricken with immediate panic. _Fuck no!_ She presses another button and realizes it’s Ruby’s floor. _Can’t do this, either!_ The last attempt leads her to the chapel level where she curls up and falls asleep in a pew. She dreams of him, of course, but in her dream they're together. They're sailing up the coast on a warm summer day. She can feel the rays on her face and smell the coconut oil. She wakes up to a soft, lilting voice, but not the one in her dream. “Oye, it’s about time you woke up. You’ve been asleep for fourteen hours. I’m afraid I can’t let you sleep any longer.”

“Graham, did you say fourteen hours? Killian, I have to find Killian.” _Please still be here!_

“That’s why I woke you up, his family is here to get him. He’s discharged. Thought you’d want to say goodbye.” She runs to the front lobby of the hospital where Killian is chatting with a pretty brunette and a chatty Brit with the largest eyes she’s ever seen.

“Lass, you’re awake!” He pulls her into a tight hug, breathing her in even though she hasn’t showered in Gods know when. “Emma, this is my cousin, Belle, and her worthless husband, Will. Guys, this is Emma."

"I'm sorry, I don't normally wear bloody clothing and smell like a barn." The pair laughs.

“Oye, you didn’t mention how pretty she is. Unlike previous encounters, this one looks like her ovaries aren’t shriveled up.” Killian slaps him on the back of the head. “Sorry, mate. I just call it like I see it.” Belle pulls her husband aside to reprimand him while Emma looks at Killian.

“So, you’re going to Boston?”

“For now. I need to get some of Liam’s affairs in order that I’ve been neglecting. It’s time I make peace with his passing. I’m actually thinking of going to England for a bit. Until Arthur needs me for the trial, which could be quite a wait.

“What about Milah?”

“Tink flew in from South Carolina to be with her. She signed the paperwork to take her off that breathing apparatus and will take care of everything. She basically told me to bugger off and focus on myself. Arthur seemed pleased with the files she brought him.”

“So where are the feds?”

“Gone, darling. It’s just us and Graham. I couldn’t leave without telling you goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Killian.”

“Goodbye, lass.” He hugs her again and kisses her forehead as Belle interrupts.

“Emma, it was nice to meet you. Come on, Will, let’s wait in the car.”

“Yeah, I took care of your car too, Emma," Graham says. "It’s around back. I’ll pull it up for you.”

“Killian. Don’t leave me, please. I need you.” He runs his thumb across her lip.

“Emma, you don’t need a sod like me, you need to focus on yourself. Get healthy, find a hobby, choose a vocation, (cough) buy a new car. I swear on my mother I will come back to you.” With that he kisses her lips so gently it feels more like a whisper, and exits the double doors. She stands in a stupor for a few moments before chasing him across the parking lot.

“Killian!” He freezes and turns to her with tears in his eyes. _Caught ya, Jones!_ She runs into his arms, desperately pressing her lips to his.

“Bloody hell, love, you weren’t supposed to see me cry!” He kisses her back with fervor until they’re both a sobbing mess. "I love you, Emma! I swear my heart will always be yours!"

“Why are you leaving me then, we can take care of each other, please, please, please.” Emma doesn’t think she has ever begged for anything in her life, until now.

“Swan, I love you so fucking much!” She smiles in relief. “But, I love you too much to be selfish with you. This week has irreversibly changed me, you have changed me. You are amazing and deserve someone who is healthy of mind, and stable, and worthy of your love. Someone who has a direction in life. I’m going to work my arse off to be that person.”

“I love you just the way you are, you stupid, stupid, man.” She presses three quick kisses to his lips.

“You may feel that way now, but once things settle, will you feel the same?”

“Yes. Of course.” She stops. Suddenly it hits her. He's scared. “I know what this is. It’s that damn self preservation mode where you sabotage everything good to throw yourself a pity party.”

“I told you from the beginning, I’m the challenging Jones.”

“Go on then, run away and protect your precious heart, Emma’s heart be damned!”

“That’s not what I said. I'm taking the moral high ground for the first time in my damned life!”

“You know what, forget it. I don't have the strength to fight anymore. Goodbye, Killian!”

“Love, please?” He reaches for her, but she jerks away as if burned.

“What sucks the most is that my fucking parents were right again.”

“About what?”

“That you would only break my heart.” She wordlessly walks away. She silently prays he stops her, but he never does. Graham is waiting beside her bug to toss her the keys. She sits in the driver’s seat for at least ten minutes, waiting for Killian to return and say he was wrong, but he never does. All the way back to Storybrooke she looks in her rearview mirror hoping to see him chasing her down, but he never does. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! This one was here, there, and everywhere...One more to go!


	12. Begin Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After three years apart, Killian returns to Emma as promised, hoping he still holds a place in her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of the two endings I have written for this, I opted to publish the sweet and very predictable one. AKA - The cop out ending. Enjoy!

He perches on the stern of his schooner and gazes out at the orange hues of the horizon. Killian has always adored an east coast sunrise. There’s a dull ache in his head from the night prior, reminding him that all night bingers with Will aren’t nearly as fun when you’re pushing thirty. They’re approaching the last stop of their coastal journey, a place called Storybrooke, Maine. As much as his heart belongs to the open sea, it’s refreshing to get his land legs every now and again. He rises to stretch his muscles, gently rolling his head from side to side. This last port of call will undoubtedly help steer his path in life, much like _she_ did three years ago. His stomach rolls with waves of nausea, but he can't discern if it's from the trepidation of possibly seeing her again or merely a side effect of mixing beer and hard liquor. He calls down to his self proclaimed _first mate._

“Oye, rise and shine, you bilge rat. I need help docking the ol’ girl.” Killian hears a pained moan from Will's small makeshift cot and watches him pull the covers completely over his ears.

“Bugger off, mate. I need to sleep off this bleedin’ headache.” Killian stomps below deck, jerking the covers off of his friend.

“No, we need food. You and your alcohol induced munchies have depleted our supplies.” He hears Will mumble something under his breath about calming down.

“You go out for food, I’m resting me eyes till noon.” 

“You can do whatever the bloody hell you want, after we dock my vessel.” He retreats, hoping Will will take the hint and follow suit.

“If you’d _dock your vessel_ more often, you’d be in a better mood, Killy.” Killian forcefully chucks an empty beer can at him before Will reluctantly drags himself from his bed and agrees to assist.

They lower the sails, guiding her safely into the harbor. They're quiet as they work, with unspoken remorse for emptying an entire bottle of rum. Killian’s stomach does a nervous flip as his ship finally reaches a halt. _Please be here, love. I need you._

“You’re gonna look for her, ain’t cha?” Will chirps.

“Aye, but first, I need sustenance.”

“You need a lot more than that, Cap! At least change your clothes and run a comb through your hair.” Killian sighs, loathe to admit that Will has a point. If Emma is indeed in this town, he wants to look his best. He glances in the mirror. _Three years._ There's no doubt that the passage of time has been kind to him. His body is strong and fit with added lean muscle from days in the shipyard. His skin has a healthy glow and his hair isn’t as shaggy. With the exception of this sailing adventure with Will Scarlet, he’s abstained from almost all alcohol consumption. He decides on a casual look this morning, opting for linen shorts and a solid tee. He would never admit to anyone that he keeps the clothing that Emma bought him in his closet, a token that someone once cared deeply for him. For a while, those few scraps of fabric were his only worldly possessions. Despite a rough start, he's truly done well for himself the past few years. He's held a steady job that he truly loves, earning him the reputation of being a highly sought after shipwright in Boston. He's managed to save nearly all of his earnings, leaving him with a pretty substantial bank account as well. He has many friends and a wonderful relationship with his remaining living relatives. From the outside, Killian Jones truly has his act together, but inside, he's missing one critical piece to his life puzzle. That piece has blonde hair, emerald eyes, and a sailor's mouth.

His musings lead him off the ship and into the sleepy port town. He stumbles upon a little diner called _Granny’s._ He indulges in a full plate of greasy breakfast food served by a sweet girl named Ashley. It’s not his usual breakfast of choice, but damn this hangover. The girl winks and puts her number on the back of the ticket. He tucks it in his back pocket and winks back at her. He'll throw it away, but no sense in being a total prig. He almost asks her about the Nolan family, but chickens out.

He finds that Storybrooke is actually very quiet. There are little shops lining the streets and everyone he passes has a friendly wave and a smile. It's almost hard for him to imagine his Emma settling down here. She's vivacious and full of life, a contradiction to the doldrums of this small coastal town. He finds a quaint bookstore and makes a purchase before plopping on a bench near a well used hiking trail. He is on page 26 of his new book, completely immersed in the plot, when he feels a light tug on his shorts. He peeks over his book to see a small wisp of a girl, barely two years old. _Cute little thing._ She twirls her dark wavy hair around her finger and her bright blue eyes look up at him expectantly.

“May I help you, little lass?” She reaches out her arms to him, as if she wants lifted.

“Daddy?” Killian scratches his head and looks around. 

“Noo…?” _Why is this child alone?_

“Up?” She looks at him again and he’s tempted to scoop her up, but the last thing he needs is a black eye from this child’s father. Before Killian can answer, a familiar sandy blonde man frantically grabs her hand.

“Hope! Thank God! Don’t run away from me like that! You stay with me at all times and never talk to strangers.” _Graham has a child?_ It takes several moments for the deputy to notice him, but he sees the moment the recognition snaps into place.

“Oh!” Graham’s initial shock turns into a smile as Killian rises to embrace him. “Killian Jones! You look good. What brings you into town?” He claps him on the shoulder.

“Oh, you know, just sailing the coast.” He scratches behind his ear. _He knows exactly why you're here._

“Don't lie! You came to find her, didn’t you?” Killian lowers his head with embarrassment.

“Aye. Is-is she here?” He nervously fidgets with his earlobe while holding his breath. _Please say yes._

“Of course. She’s my best deputy.” _Thank the Gods._

“Oh! That would make you…”

“You’re looking at Storybrooke’s finest.” Graham puffs his chest out for emphasis.

“Congratulations, sheriff.” Killian looks down at the child and makes a painful inference. “So are you and Emma…” He flicks his index finger between Graham and the girl until he realizes he's impersonating a windshield wiper. Graham laughs.

“Friends. Just friends. Let’s just say Emma's not my type.” He winks and Killian vaguely remembers her hinting at something between their favorite federal agent and Storybrooke sheriff. 

“Daddy.” The girl tugs on his shorts again.

“I see you’ve met Hope. Precocious, this one! I blame her father entirely. Forgive me mate, I have to run and get her back to her mum." He scoops up the child and shakes Killian's hand once more. "Oh, Emma’s at the station today if you want to stop by.”

“Thanks. Your daughter is adorable, by the way.”

“She’s not mine, but thanks. Her mum works her ass off and her papa left before she was born. I help out when I can. Good to see you, Killian.”

After they leave, Killian is completely rattled, making a task as mundane as reading nearly impossible. He’s never had much experience with kids, but surely it’s unusual for one to abruptly identify you as her father. He still thinks of nothing else when he’s lying in bed that night listening to Will’s snores. Something about that girl pulled at his heartstrings. What kind of cold hearted son of a bitch could abandon that sweet child? Then again, that didn’t stop his father all of those years ago. For hours he lies awake, allowing his memory to drift to his childhood. He wakes to the sound of Will arguing with someone above deck.

“I’m sorry, son. Without a permit, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” The voice is distinctly Graham’s, but why is he so upset?

“What kind of bloody racket is this?” Will shouts dramatically.

“Don’t make me take you in-” _What the hell, Humbert?_ He pulls on a shirt before joining Will on deck.

“What seems to be the trouble, sheriff?” Killian asks.

“I’m giving you boys an hour to get a permit to park at our docks, or you need to set sail.” The sheriff removes his sunglasses and crosses his arms. The look he gives them is nothing short of menacing.

“We’ll bloody set sail then,” Will spits. Graham is downright pissed as he reaches into his back pocket.

“Fine.” The sheriff pulls out a pad and writes them a ticket, waving it around before slapping it down on the side of the vessel. “This is for illegal overnight docking. Make sure to pay it in full at the station before you leave town. If you hurry, you can catch my _(cough)_ deputy before she makes her rounds.” He raises an eyebrow at Killian. Sneaky bastard, this is one way to get him to the station.

“Ooh, I love women with authority, sounds sexy.” Killian rolls his eyes at Will's ill timed joke.

“Will, keep your bloody trap closed, will ya?" Killian pleads.

“Aye, Cap!” He gives him a salute and tromps below deck.

“Get in, I’ll give you a ride, _Mr. Jones._ ” He gestures to the passenger's side of the cruiser.

“Thanks, mate.”

The ride to the station is uncomfortably quiet, until the sheriff starts his lecture and then Killian swears he’s never heard an Irishmen sound so intimidating. “I never took you for a complete chicken shit! You didn’t even have the bollox to find her yesterday.”

“I wasn’t ready, the nerves got the best of me.”

“Piss off with your nerves, mate! That woman hasn’t had it easy the past three years, you owe her more than a hello after disappearing like that.”

“I didn’t-”

“Not finished!” Graham runs his hands through his hair and Killian can see his jaw tick from the passenger seat of the cruiser. “She means a lot to me, Jones. They-they both do. If you dare break her heart again, I’ll cut off your fucking hand, do we understand each other?”

“Aye. Wait, both?” 

“I’ll put you out of your misery and tell you she still loves you, but you’ve got some work to do if you want her back.” _She still loves me._

“You know I want to be in her life, Graham. I just had to-”

“Spare me the details of personal growth and better man nonsense. You didn't watch her cry herself to sleep for months on end. Hell, she still does from time to time, if I'm being honest. I was so relieved to see you yesterday, because you were finally going to man up. It's time to stop pussing out, mate!" _Ouch!_ "We’re here.” Killian looks out the passenger window and the first thing he sees is a beat up yellow bug. The reality of the situation hits him with the force of a piano being dropped onto his head. His heart stops before beating out of his chest. For three long years he has thought of her every single day, but time has muted several things about her. Now, every tiny detail of her comes flooding back to him. Her smile, her smell, the way she twirls hair, the way she tastes, the way she feels when… _shit!_

“Killian?”

“Aye?”

“Get the fuck out of my cruiser.” For a moment Killian considers teasing him about his language and Emma rubbing off on him, but he holds his tongue and exits the vehicle. His feet are impossibly heavy as he trudges the stairs of the sheriff’s station, the fear of rejection weighing heavily on his conscience, nearly compelling him back down. _This is it. This is real._

He hears her voice before he sees her. “Graham, you're back already? You really shouldn’t heckle tourists like that. We both know the permits are bullshit." He rounds the last corner of the staircase, to see her hovering over her desk, perusing some paperwork. "I’m going to make my rounds soon. I’m thinking pizza for dinner tonight.” She fully stands and turns to face the door. She drops her coffee mug when their eyes meet and it crashes to the tile floor in a million ceramic pieces. Her hands fly to her mouth and she stares wildly in disbelief.

“Killian? Wha-what are you doing here?” Her sparkly green eyes well up with tears, from shock or emotion he can’t be sure. His instincts urge him to hold her close, but he remains glued to his spot, unsure of the reaction it would elicit. 

“I’m on vacation with Will. Belle is a few months pregnant, you see, and he wants to “see the world” before he becomes a father. Which translates to us sailing my ship up and down the east coast and drinking copious amounts of alcohol. I made Storybrooke our last stop. To see you.”

“I see. You own a ship?” She grabs a nearby broom and haphazardly sweeps up the chips of her broken mug.

“Aye, she’s a beauty. Though, she earned me this citation from your less than amiable sheriff.” He waves the ticket in the air. She snorts and retrieves the ticket from his hand, their fingertips brushing in the process, sending tingles down his body. Emma pulls away quickly, ripping the ticket into pieces and tossing it in the trash. In an attempt to harness his nervous energy, Killian grabs the dust pan and helps her clean up the ceramic disaster. She smiles and thanks him, but not before he notices her trembling hands. _She's nervous._ How could he have let this wonderful woman disappear from his life? She is living breathing sunshine.

“I-uh followed the trial. They threw the book at Neal, didn’t they?” 

“Aye, love. They certainly did. I'm just thankful I didn't have to testify." She walks away to return the broom as he bounces in the balls of his feet. "You look beautiful, the years have been kind to you.” She blushes.

“You look-” He knows he looks infinitely better than their last meeting, but there is no room for swagger in this conversation.

“Please don’t say homeless.” He shoots her what he hopes is a boyish grin.

“No, you look really good.” He takes a step forward. _Now or never, Jones._

“Emma, I-” A door opens from across the station, startling him.

“Mama, I went potty.” He looks down to see the little lass from the park. _Her mum works her ass off, that mum is Emma._

“Swan, you have a child.”

“I do. Her name is Hope. And we’re potty training. Mom and dad are out of town, so Graham and I are tag teaming babysitting duties while performing full time jobs.”

“She’s lovely. I saw her with the good sheriff yesterday. How old?” 

“She turned two in February. So, um, yeah, it turns out we had a little stowaway on our road trip.” _Out with it Jones, rip it off, like a Band-Aid._

“Is she mine?” He tries to hide the hopeful tone in his voice, but he knows his eyes are betraying him.

“No.” And with one word that flicker of hope and possibility is extinguished.

“Oh.” _Fuck, she's Neal's. Of bloody course she is._

“Does Neal know about her?” Emma is taken aback by his question.

“Hell no!” _She never told him?_

“I’m sorry you’ve had to raise her alone.” 

“Yeah, well, it hasn’t been easy, but I’ve managed. Excuse me for a minute, I need to help her wash her hands.” He paces around the station until the pair emerges once again.

“Swan, what time is your lunch break? I’d love to sit and catch up.”

“Killian, I’ve missed you, and I’d love to catch up, but it’s not just me now. Hope and I are a package deal. So, any misguided wooing attempts are going to be for naught.”

“That’s fine, Swan. I’d never ask you to abandon your flesh and blood for a man. I want to get to know both of you.”

“You do?"

"Of course. The lass may be a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. I guess I should ask if you're single, before I take some guy's wife out." She snorts and sits the girl in her office chair, handing her a container of little orange crackers.

"Yes, I'm single. It's just me and Hope. Boys suck!" She wrinkles her nose in faux disgust and he chuckles.

"We do, admittedly. But, I told you three years ago that I would return to you, even if it’s just as your friend. So, here I am." _There, was that so hard?_ "You can think on it, Swan.” He bends down to Hope's level and kisses the back of her tiny hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, little lass. I'm Killian. I'm friends with your mommy." She giggles and offers him a cracker. He takes it and turns to leave the sheriff’s station, casting a smirk at her.

“Killian?”

“Mhm?”

“Can two people really be friends if well, you know?” He turns and sees a genuine smile on her face. She runs to him, throwing her arms around his neck, and pressing their bodies together from head to toe. “I’ve missed you so much, Killian.” Her breath tickles his ear, sending butterflies sailing through his body. He takes a moment to breathe her in, squeezing her tight, and never wanting to let her go. For a moment he thinks of kissing her, but exercises restraint and finds contentment in simply holding her.

“I’ve missed you too, love.” _Graham is right, you're a coward._ She is the first to pull away.

“My shift ends at 11:00 if you want to meet Hope and me at Granny’s.” He looks over her shoulder at the little girl who is playing at her mother’s desk, then back at Emma's eyes. Before he can answer, they are startled apart with Graham's appearance.

“Your shift ends now, deputy. It’s Friday. Get out of here.” 

"Thank you!" She kisses Graham on the cheek and whispers something in his ear before grabbing her purse and taking her daughter's hand. Moments later, It is surreal for him to find himself in the passenger seat of the tin can again. With the uncomfortable way he has to contort to squeeze into the passengers seat, he swears his legs have grown or the car has shrunk. Even the toddler strapped into her car seat appears to be cramped. 

“Swan. This is a terrible family vehicle. The little lass doesn’t look comfortable at all.” Emma scoffs and glances at her daughter through the rearview.

“The little lass shoves peas up her nose, she doesn’t get a vote in transportation matters.” He laughs, relishing how good it feels to be in her presence again, and how quickly they're at ease with one another.

“I’m actually surprised she’s not named Emma Jr.” 

“Yeah, the nurses at the hospital talked me out of it.” When she turns the wheel, he catches a glimpse of her wrist tattoo, smiling from the memory of those first declarations of love. She catches him staring and he turns his attention to the road ahead of them.

“Did you get any more these past three years, love?”

“What? Tattoos? Wouldn’t you like to know?” she teases.

“Love, I most definitely would.” She shakes her head at his term of endearment.

“No, I didn't. Did you?”

“Aye.”

“Shut up! You did not!” She playfully smacks his arm.

“Did too. I've become quite fond of the process. Though, I'd have to remove some clothing reveal their locations.”

“Hmm. Rain check, Jones.” Her cheeks blush, unintentionally revealing the attraction she still has towards him, even after all this time. The three of them park the bug and walk into the same diner as Killian did yesterday. Ashley spies him immediately and saunters up to him.

“Hi handsome, are you back for more?” She touches his bicep and Emma steps in between them with a look that screams _mine_.

“Oh, deputy Nolan. I see you’ve met our new visitor." The girl pauses with a furrowed brow. "Wait! Is this?”

“How I know Killian is none of your business, Ashley. We'd like to be seated at a back booth, please.” 

“Yes, ma'am." She grabs a few menus and joins them at the booth with three waters. "What can I get you?”

“I’ll have a grilled cheese with onion rings and Hope would like your mac n cheese.”

"And for you, handsome?"

“I’ll just have a cheeseburger and fries, lass.” She departs, leaving the trio on their own. Emma sips nervously on her straw, avoiding his eyes. He gently coaxes her into an easy conversation. The weather in Maine, the history of the little diner, hell, even sailboats. When the tension leaves her shoulders, he presses on with a deeper question.

“Who did she think I was, love?” She takes a deep breath, finally brave enough to meet his gaze.

“People around here are always speculating about Hope’s father. I was the town gossip for quite some time. Single girl, small town, not a father in sight, it was quite a scandal. Only a handful of people know the truth and I'd like to keep it that way.”

“I’m sorry about that, Emma. If I would’ve been here…”

“People would've talked, just maybe a little less. But, you weren’t here. You were off doing your soul searching.” There is a tinge of bitterness in her voice that cuts him to the bone.

“I should’ve stayed by your side.” _I was wrong, please forgive me._

“No, you made the right choice. At the time, we weren’t in the right mental state. We wouldn’t have been good for each other, not to mention the added challenge of raising a baby."

"At least you wouldn't have had to bear that burden alone. I would've taken responsibility for her, regardless of her lineage." Emma coughs as Ashley approaches again with their food. As she leaves, Emma leans in to whisper to him.

"You would've raised a child that wasn't yours?"

"I still would." He reaches his hand across the tables and squeezes her hand. She places her own on top of it.

"It's so surreal being here with you. I didn't think I'd ever see you again, Killian."

"Can you forgive me for leaving, Emma?"

"Before I had her, I would've sad no. I was so bitter and jaded. Having Hope changed my perspective on things." She drops her hands to pop an onion ring into her mouth and lean over to assist Hope with her bib.

"How so, Emma?"

"Well, I put myself in your shoes. If I was in a dark place, and not capable of being a good mother to Hope, I would find the strength to do what's best for her, no matter what. Love isn't selfish, is it?"

"No, it's not." They finish their meal, with Hope chattering on beside them. Killian smiles at the domesticity of the moment. _I can do this. I'm ready for this stage of my life._

"So, how is the threesome king of Miami faring these days?" Killian chokes on his water at her blunt question.

“I'm a Boston man again, but I've abdicated my throne." She laughs out loud and it's music to his ears. "Seriously though, I was admittedly in a pretty dark place for at least a year. A trip to England helped. I got to spread Liam’s ashes and forgive myself for all the poor decisions I had made. Tack on three years of therapy, a great job, and healthy living, and I've chased that darkness away."

“Ducks!” Hope startles him with her declaration.

“Uh, this is a cheeseburger, little one. It's a cow.” Emma laughs at them with a wistful look in her eye.

“Hope wants to know if you want to go to the duck park.”

“Ah! That makes more sense. What does a duck say, little lass?”

“Wack, wack!”

“She’s brilliant, Emma.”

"Well, yeah! Have you seen her mother?" Killian pays for the meal and they walk to nearby duck park after lunch. Emma grabs his hand and his heart swoops like a teenager in love. Now that he’s found her, he’s never letting her go again. Hope toddles off toward a small pond.

“Wait, little lass!” While he would gladly wade in after her, he'd prefer to stay dry.

“She’s fine. She knows where to stop. I’m afraid there’s no slowing her down when water’s involved. She especially loves to watch the boats in the harbor.”

“A girl after my own heart. Would she like to see mine sometime?”

“I sure would. I've waited years to see your dinghy.” Emma locks eyes with him, obviously holding in her laughter and he feels it, that unequivocal desire that has always surrounded them. He wants her, all of her. There’s a current of underlying lust, yes, but there’s more. She is his happy ending, his true love, the only woman he wants to cherish and spend his life with. Right now, though, he's loathe to admit he's fighting the urge to take her against the nearest tree. _Damn hormones!_

“Feed the ducky!” The little girl takes his hand and leads him to a feeder of duck pellets, as he fishes a quarter out of his pocket. 

“I thought feeding wild animals was bad, because they become dependent upon humans, Swan?”

“It’s too late for these ducks, they’re practically pets at this point.” He stands to dust his pants and the tiny brunette reaches for his hand once more, smiling at him. She leads him to the edge of the pond and shows him how to toss the pellets to the ducks. She squeals and claps her hands. Killian realizes what a lost cause he is. Genetics be damned, he already loves this wonderful little extension of the blonde who captured his heart all those years ago. He looks back to smile at said blonde, but she isn’t returning one. Instead, she almost looks sad as she turns to sit on a concrete bench.

“Hope, it appears we’re out of food. Let’s check on mommy, aye?” The girl lifts her hands, silently asking him to pick her up, so he does. She’s so small and fragile, but so pure of heart. When she wraps her arms around his neck, he’s officially a goner. He vows to be a proper father figure to this child, in a way he and Liam never had.

“Love, are you alright?” He places Hope on the bench next to her mother.

“Yes? No? I need to tell you something.”

“Go ahead.” She stands and faces him. He can’t help but wipe her wet cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.

“I-I...I, well..."

"Go on, love."

"I'm so happy you're here, Killian.” There's more she wants to say, he knows when she's holding back, but he doesn't push.

“Me, too.” He lovingly strokes her cheeks with his knuckles.

“You’re here now, you came back for me. And you’re so different. I mean, parts are the same, but the storm inside of you has been calmed. You’re at peace, aren’t you?”

“You make it seem as if I’m dead, darling!”

“No, I mean, don't get me wrong, you’re still handsome as hell, but you’ve lost that bad boy edge. No bravado.”

“I’ve grown up. Had to happen sometime, right?” She runs her thumb across his forearm, tracing his compass tattoo. 

“Do you want to go out tonight? I can get a sitter for Hope.” He kisses the back of her hand. "You can bring her too, you know."

"No, it needs to just be the two of us."

"Meet me at the docks at 6:00pm, then.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“William! I told you that I need you off this vessel at 6:00, what in the seven hells are you still doing down there?” 

“I'm getting me phone. What in the bloody hell else am I supposed to do while you’re fucking?" Will emerges from below deck. "If there's any consolation, at least you won't last long, being a monk and all.” If he wasn't his best friend, Killian would slap him into next week.

“Gods, you’re a cretin! I don’t plan on doing anything, we’re just sailing.”

“Uh-huh.” Will raises his eyebrows repeatedly.

“Don’t give me that look. She has a daughter to think about. I promise you that sex is not on her mind.” _At least I don't think so._

“She’s a single mom, Killian. Sex will be the only thing on her mind.” _Cripes! What if he's right?_

“Actually, she’s wondering what your wife sees in you.” Both men stare in horror as she approaches the gangplank. “Hello, Will.”

“Aye, well, that's my que. You two kids be safe, clean up after yer selves.” Killian can only roll his eyes as Will exits, leaving him alone with Emma.

“Sorry about him, welcome aboard _The Swan_ , lass.” He gingerly takes her hand and guides her to the deck.

“Geez, that’s tacky.” He feigns shock and gently strokes the side of his vessel.

"It's okay, baby. The blonde lady didn't mean it." Emma places her hands on her hips and he takes in her appearance. She's always had the ability to make his mouth water. From her sun kissed legs, to her delightfully short shorts, to her delicious pink lips, he finds himself a little excited. _No you don't, you cad. Think of Will naked._ The way she's looking at him suggests the feelings might be mutual. _Bloody hell, I might get laid!_ He shakes away his lust addled thoughts and finds that Emma knows her way around a ship with minimal instruction. In minutes they're sailing out to sea. They travel a mile or so out before sitting on the bow, dangling their feet off the side. They engage in light conversation and Killian brings out a picnic basket of snacks for them. They joke, tease, and reminisce on their time spent on the road.

“I've got to hand it to you, Jones, this is a pretty romantic date. I'll bet you bring all the girls to your vessel for a one night visit.” He knows she's fishing for information, but he doesn't mind. He places his hand over his heart.

“I’m offended." He takes her hand and squeezes lightly. "My darling, I have not had a one night stand since before I met you. I don’t do that shite anymore.”

“You, you haven’t?” _See, I'm a good man._

“That’s right, I haven’t!" His conscious is clear, but Emma looks quite sheepish. "Wait, have you!?"

"Maybe." She wrinkles her nose. _Of course she's been with other men, she's a Goddess._ He waits for the jealous bone to kick in, but it never does. Instead, he finds himself curious to learn of all the adventures she's had the past three years.

"Emma Nolan, you hussy. It appears we've switched places. Where? When?"

"It's not important. It was only a couple of times. It made me feel dirty afterwards, wrong, even." She locks eyes with him and he swears she can see through his soul. _She feels guilty, like she betrayed me._ He places his hand on her upper thigh and feels her quick intake of breath. _Will was right, she wants me. Keep talking, don't just stare._

"Well, it took _me_ a full fifteen months to even date again, and when I did, they turned out badly. Turns out, women only want one thing from me, and it’s not a healthy monogamous relationship.”

“Oh yeah, and what is that, sailor?” He tucks a blonde lock behind her ear. She leans in closer to him and he can feel the heat radiating from her body and smell the citrus from her shampoo. She's intoxicating, but he has to keep his wits about him, especially when the word _sailor_ leaves her lips. So many illicit memories are connected to this simple two syllable word, that he not so subtly adjusts his shorts.

“Gods, I missed you calling me that. You’re the only person who does.” _You just sound needy. Stop it!_ He twirls a stand of her hair around his finger. “I did seriously date one woman, though. She was a chatty redhead. I told her I wanted to hold off on full physical intimacy and she was fine with that, because she was just out of a failed marriage. A few months in, I could feel her getting antsy. I cared for her, but I just wasn’t ready. I asked for more time that she wasn’t willing to give. So, I plunged myself into my ship, instead.” He grins.

“Nice euphemism.”

“I knew you’d appreciate that.” He winks.

“So, are you telling me that you haven’t been with a woman in over three years, I don’t believe that.” _Gods it feels like so much longer._

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I have the calluses on my wrist to prove it.” He hold up his right palm for her to inspect.

“Wow, there you are. And you’ve done it again, no one can divert a conversation quite like you. What point was I making?” _She's making this too easy._

“You were telling me how handsome I am and how badly you want me.” He leans in to whisper in her ear, leaving goosebumps on her neck. _Fuck!_

“I don’t think that was it.” She pulls away, but only slightly.

"And you also mentioned my superior sexual prowess." He boldly nuzzles her neck with his nose. It would be easy, too damn easy, to press his lips to her neck.

"Huh, don't remember that, either." She turns to face him with a fuckstruck look and he has to pull back before he devours her. "Your ship is lovely Killian, how long have you had her?"

"This was among Liam's assets. He rescued her from a scrap heap and was going to surprise me with her, before, well, you know. She became my project after I returned from England."

"You restored this yourself? That's incredible!" He beams with pride and pulls out his phone to show her before and after pictures. He gets so immersed in his storytelling, that he barely notices her index finger tracing lazy circles on his thigh. When he does notice, she abruptly coughs and jerks her finger away, promptly changing the subject. "And you have a phone!" She gestures to the device in his hand and he smiles sadly.

"Yes, and I would've killed to have just one picture of you on it." She takes the phone and opens the camera, snapping a few pictures of them together before entering her own number into his contacts. _I wonder if she'd notice if I stepped away to have a wank? It would only take a moment._

"What would you have done if I hadn't lived here anymore?"

"I'm sure that blonde lass at the diner could have been coerced out of information on your whereabouts," he replies nonchalantly.

"You could probably coerce her out of a lot more than that." This time Emma leans into him, and bloody hell, he can feel her warm breath on his neck. "She has a weakness for handsome men." He turns his head ever so slightly, so that their noses are brushing. 

"What about you?" _Gods you sound desperate, mate._ His pulse accelerates rapidly as she brings her palm to the scruff of his jawline, scratching her fingers through it. He swears he hears a whimper from her and he knows his resolve is fading.

"I have a weakness for you, Killian." _Fuck it!_ He grins like a maniac as he leans forward and captures her lips. Her lips are soft, yet demanding and as she lightly nibbles on his lower lip, he readily responds. The moment her tongue begins to dance with his, the whole damn powder keg explodes. He growls and pulls her roughly onto his lap, his hands finding purchase on her back side as she sucks on his pulse point, no doubt marking him as her own. Impossibly hard doesn't even begin to describe his state as Emma's kisses become ravenous. He refuses give her the upper hand. He cards his fingers through her hair, pulling hard to expose the glorious expanse of her neck as she writhes against him. His lips caress every available inch of skin until finding purchase on her kiss swollen lips once more. Everything feels so familiar, but new at the same time. He can't get enough of her and when her dainty fingers begin exploring inside the front of his drawstring shorts, he takes a ragged breath. Of course she hears it, and has to encourage him for more. "Do you like that, Killian?"

"Fuck, yes! But, you have to stop before I spill myself into your hand."

"I wouldn't mind." He growls and lays her back on the deck of this ship, settling a leg between her thighs. She grinds against him, desperate for relief. And in an instant they have become horny teenagers dry humping on the deck of his beloved ship. His hand inches its way up her shirt and she sits up to remove it. When she tosses it aside, she is horrified when she hears a distinct splash. “Did I just throw my only shirt in the fucking ocean?” He laughs a deep laugh that rumbles his chest and she presses her palm to it with a look of concern.

“You do realize my ribs have been healed for years, right?” He presses a sweet kiss to her hand.

“Sorry, old habits die hard. So, does this mean you’re 100%?”

“Do you want to see?”

“Hell, yes!” She pulls him to a standing position and hastily jerks his button up from his body, throwing it to the left instead of the ocean. She unabashedly stares for a moment, before removing her jean shorts. Now it’s his turn to stare. Her feminine curves are more pronounced, her breasts and thighs fuller and there’s a slight rounding to her abdomen. _Perfection._ She blushes as he gazes at her.

“You’re truly a wonder, Emma.”

“Your turn, sailor.” He removes his shorts and undershirt, leaving him only in his tented boxer briefs.

“Oh, come on! Seriously?! I get stretch marks and you get ripped? How is that fair?” He laughs. “No, I’m serious. I’m putting my shorts back on.” She bends over to pick them up, but he beats her to it.

“You mean these shorts?” He dangles them from his finger off the side of the ship.

“You wouldn’t dare!” She lunges for them and he holds them above his head. She presses her body against him in a retrieval attempt and he kisses her soundly. "You do realize we're in public, right, Jones?"

"We're in the middle of the ocean, it's a far cry from public picnic tables." She flushes a bright shade of red.

"I was insane!" She buries her face in her hands.

"You were lovely, you still are." He takes her by the hand. "Follow me." He leads her down the stairs and she sees a full sized bed. "If you'd allow it, I'd like to show you how lovely you are." He moves forward and places his hands on her hips.

“Killian, wait! I want you, I do, it’s just-”

“Too fast?” _Shit! You've cocked this up!_

“No! Not at all, I didn’t exactly bring a condom with me. Do you have one?” He looks sheepish.

“No.” She traces his newest ink, Liam's name and birthdate on his right shoulder, most likely to preoccupy her nerves.

“Fuck, I’m an idiot. I didn’t want to be presumptuous. I should've known that being alone with you would lead to sex.”

"Woah, woah, woah! Emma, I want us to be more than physical. I want to build a life with you. I've no problem taking my time. Let me grab you a shirt." He goes to his closet and on top of a folded pile of clothes lies a sealed envelope. He opens it up and discovers it's filled with condoms. “That son of a bitch!” _That's what he was doing down here._

“Who?”

“Will. Apparently, he didn’t trust us to make good choices.” _Smug bastard was right._

“Given our track record, I wouldn’t trust us either. What does the note say?"

"It says, _Clean up when you're done and stay off me cot! XOXO Will."_

"Wow. Remind me to thank him." Emma cups his cheeks and kisses him tenderly. He pulls her hips flush against his own and kisses down her neck and onto her collarbone. She pushes him away briefly to remove the rest of her clothing.

"Emma, we don't have to do anything."

"I want to! If you stick around, our moments alone are going to be few and far between, believe me." She kisses down his chest, but he stops her dainty fingers before they reach his waistband.

"What do you mean, if? I'm not leaving you, Emma. This isn't just a weekend visit to Maine. I want a real relationship with you. I want to help you raise Hope." Emma freezes with a reverent look. 

"You, do? Killian, I've made a mess of things. You have to know that."

"What I know is that in three years my feelings for you haven't changed. You are everything to me. I've spent the past few years trying to be a better man for you, so I could take care of you, so you'd be proud of me."

"Are you done yet, sailor?"

"There's always room for self improvement, but overall, I'd say I'm done. Why?"

"Because I'd really like you to make love to me now."

"Aye.” He grabs her bottom, pulling her legs around his waist and she squeaks in surprise. He carries her to the bed and plops her down while he removes his last piece of clothing.

"Don't set your expectations too high, I'm out of practice." She giggles and it's music to his ears. "Ladies first?" He hovers above her and slinks down her body, leaving wet kisses as he travels.

"No. I just want you."

"A few kisses hardly constitutes foreplay-" She takes his hand and places it between her thighs, moaning at the contact.

"Does it feel like I need foreplay?"

"No, you feel bloody perfect." Without preamble he hikes up her leg and gives a firm forward thrust. When he's fully seated within her, they both release the same expletive. Moving inside her feels like coming home. Her body is warm and soft and the way she's gazing at him through hooded eyes undoubtedly mirrors his own affection. He wanted to exude confidence, showing her his full prowess for the first time. Instead, he turns into a blubbering idiot after only a few thrusts.

“I love you, Emma. You feel so perfect wrapped around me. I’ll never leave you again, my darling.”

“You're mine, Killian. Fuck, I love you!” He feels too much in this moment, triggering the familiar tingle in his spine, signaling his impending peak. 

"Shit! Love, where do you want me to finish? I never put the condom on." His thrusts become erratic as he holds himself back from the precipice.

"Inside me. Please. Just this once." He brain wants to double check with her, but his cock has other plans as he promptly empties his seed deep within her. It's hard for him to catch his breath as he collapses on the bed next to her. He can feel his whole body shake. _Bollocks! I haven't had the shivers since I was a teen._ Emma notices immediately.

"Hey, are you ok? You're shaking. Are you cold?" He whispers no to her and bites down on his lip to keep it from quivering. "Killian, your whole body is trembling."

"I'll be ok, I promise. It's just the shivers." She gives him a knowing smile and softly kisses his lips and holds him close. "Emma, do you want to talk-"

"No. It's fine. I swear I'm clean, you're the only person I've been with like that."

"I'm talking about the other (cough) risk."

"Yeah, it was taking a chance, but I don't regret it, do you?" He sakes his head and snuggles closer to her. His body starts to calm down and his heartrate returns to normal. He looks into her eyes and smiles.

"So, it's two down three to go then?" It takes her a minute to catch on before she grabs a fistful of his hair and pulls.

"You are so not funny, Jones!"

"At this rate I'm going to need a bigger boat." She clocks him on the head with a pillow and he clunks his over her head, in retaliation. The ships sways to and fro as they chase each other around the small cabin, slapping each other with their feathered weapons and laughing hysterically, until he catches her by the waist. 

"You owe me, sailor!" She pokes him on the chest with her finger.

"You're right, I do. C'mere, love." He backs her up to the bed and not so gently pushes her upon it. He's sure he looks feral as he goes straight to the source of her pleasure and makes love to her with his mouth.

"That can't be pleasant, you have to taste yourself."

"The only thing I taste is you, darling, and you taste wonderful. Now, lay back and let me enjoy myself." She must be wound tighter than he realized, because moments later, she's falling apart beneath his tongue. Of course, this leads to another round of intercourse, but this time he gets to show off his full prowess, taking her hard and fast. After, when they're panting and spent, they find comfort in each other's arms. _I could do this forever...if she'll have me._ He vaguely registers her phone ringing and a frantic voice on the other end. All mirth drains from her face.

"We'll be right there, Graham."

```````````````````````````````````````````````````

Killian enters her parents home to the sounds of a wailing child and a frazzled Graham.

“Thank God you’re home! She went into full on toddler mode about an hour ago and I can’t get her to pick up without screaming bloody murder. She threw everything I tried to feed her on the ground except the crackers. Oh, and she had two bathroom accidents. On purpose."

“I'm sorry, Graham. Hope, it’s time for bed, we have to put our crayons away!” She rolls them and her sippy cup off the table instead. 

“No, momma!” Emma is clearly frustrated and embarrassed of her child's behavior.

“Hope J- just stop it!” Obviously not used to her mother raising her voice, Emma's reprimand leaves Hope in hysterical sobs. At that moment the oven timer decides to go off as well.

“Were you cooking, Graham?” Emma barks. He hastily exits to the kitchen.

“Yes, I was baking her some bloody cookies. I was desperate and I thought the bribery would help.” Killian feels helpless as he watches from the doorway.

“May I help, love?” She scoops up her toddler and pushes her into Killian's arms.

“Here, go to Killian while I get a rag. Grandma will be pi-ticked off if we ruin another rug.” Killian takes the sobbing child and tucks her against his chest. He’s awkward at first, but settles into a gentle sway. He rhythmically pats her back and starts to hum a sea shanty. She nestles snugly against the soft fabric of his tee shirt and her sobbing gradually dissolves into sniffles. She is small and warm in his arms and smells like baby lotion. For a moment, he can picture her as an infant and it makes his heart ache with endless what ifs.

“See little lass, everything is fine. Let’s pick up those crayons, aye?” He puts her down momentarily and sits down on the couch while he holds the box for her. Her tiny fingers place in one at a time. When she's finished, she climbs back into his lap.

"Stand up, daddy." He does as he's asked and they resume their earlier stance. He feels her relax in his arms and soon her breathing evens out. He snuggles her closer and whispers softly. "You know, little lass, I'm not your daddy, but I could be one day." He walks by a mirror to discover the girl is indeed asleep. He tenderly brushes her dark curls out of her face and tucks them behind her ear, her perfect little elf ear. His body stiffens and his blood runs cold. _Bloody hell! Is she?_

He notices Emma standing in the doorway with an incredulous look on her face and he has to school his features.

“Traitor. I carry you for nine months, feed you, cloth you, and you trade me in for a big strong man.”

“You forgot handsome, love.”

“Right. There’s that. I’m going to walk Graham out. I’ll be right back, Killian. Make yourself at home.” He walks around the room. There are pictures of her parents, of Emma as a child, and they morph into a story of Hope. There is a beautiful picture of Emma pregnant and sitting by a window and it makes him sick with want. _I could’ve been there with her. We could’ve had our own home._ He sees a pink book sitting on the mantle in front of him and he can’t help but pick it up. _Hope’s baby book._ He shuffles her to his left shoulder, propping up her petite body with his forearm so he can open it.

_Hope Alice Jones_

_Born: February 10th at Storybrooke Memorial Hospital_

_Weight: 7lbs 3oz_

He closes the book as if it’s burned his fingers and scratches the ginger scruff of his beard. _Can’t be…_ He looks down at the girl nestled next to him desperately scanning each feature for a glimpse of his genetics. He is hit with many new thoughts. _You abandoned her, you git. You possibly left Emma pregnant and alone to raise your child._ He is startled by a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turns to meet her eyes. There are conflicting emotions swirling inside of him, but he manages yet again to choke out the most important question he’s ever asked, this time banking on a different response.

“Is she mine? I want the truth, Emma.” He silently pleads with her for confirmation.

“Yes. She’s yours.” He releases a tightly held breath. _She’s mine. I have a daughter. Bloody hell, I have a daughter._ Relief and excitement quickly fill his veins, replaced with unadulterated rage. _And she lied to me about it!_ Every cell in his body wants to scream at her, but he refuses when he looks at the little girl asleep in his arms.

"Help me get her to bed and we'll talk." He nods and follows them up the stairs. He enters his daughter’s room expecting an explosion of pink. Instead, he is met with a nautical theme, complete with model boats and a captain’s wheel. Her little bed is even shaped like a rowboat. On her nightstand are pictures of him and Emma from their journey up the coast. His heart clenches in his chest but he holds it together long enough to help tuck her in. _That's how she knows. She's always known what I look like, that I'm her papa._ Overcome with emotion, he leaves the room and runs down to the kitchen. He briefly considers looking for a drink, but knows that path isn't the smartest one. She finds him hunched over the kitchen island.

"Killian?" He jerks his head up, keeping his frustration in check.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wasn’t going to force you to stay and if you stayed, I wanted it to be because of me and not your biological obligations to her.”

“A what?! Biological obligation? Are you fucking kidding me?” He rubs his temples and lowers his voice. “You had over three years to pass this information along to me. I’ve missed the first years of her life because you thought I’d see her as a biological obligation? Emma, do you see how wrong that is? What would’ve happened if I hadn’t come to Maine? I suppose I would’ve lived my life in ignorance and she would’ve lived her life without her father.

“I would’ve found you, eventually. The older she gets, the more she asks about you, you know.”

“I'm grateful that you told her about me, truly. Look, I know you can’t change the past, but what might’ve been is killing me here, love.”

“What about me, Killian? I came home to Maine knocked up and heartbroken, knowing that the man I loved only saw me as a good lay but didn’t want a future with me. Do you even know the looks I got in town? The whispers of the scandalous pregnancy. The disappointment on my father’s face. And there you were in Boston, footloose and fancy free, back to your threesomes and one-nighters.” _Breathe. She's upset. She knows you didn't._

“I’m going to stop you right there. First of all, I would’ve stepped up and been a good father, you know that!" He realizes he's pointing an accusing finger at her and retracts it.

“Of course you would’ve! And you would’ve grown to resent me for taking away your pilgrimage of self discovery.” _That bloody hurts!_

"Are you going to resent me for that for the rest of our lives? Damn it, Emma! You can't do that! You fucking lied to my face! I understand your fight or flight reaction when I first found you, but what about tonight?"

"What about it?"

"You let me make love to you without knowing the truth."

"I know! And I feel awful about it! I tried to tell you tonight. I'm terrified of what you might think of me. I didn't plan on Hope, but I am thankful every single day that you're her father, because no one could love her more fiercely."

"You say that, but they're just words. If you truly believed that, you would've found me." She sobs. She knows he's right, but he finds no solace in his victory. He wants to comfort her so badly, but fights against his nature.

“What’s next, Killian?”

“Honestly, I need to think, Emma. This changes so many things. You deceived me in the worst way. We promised to never lie to each other.”

“I know. Take all the time you need. I do love you, you need to know that.”

“Goodnight, Emma.”

“Goodnight, Killian.” He turns and walks out the door. Thank goodness he doesn’t have a vehicle. The walk to the docks should sober him up. So many decisions to make. He’ll move here, of course. Then, there’s the matter of setting up a residence. You can’t raise a child on a ship. He finds himself unusually giddy when he thinks of himself as a father. He’s got a lot of catching up to do. He knows little to nothing about his daughter. Will is waiting for him on the ship when he arrives.

“Ahoy there, mate! Did you soil the linens?”

“Not too badly, you disgusting sod.”

"You dog! You gave it to her, didn't ya?" He doesn't answer, but sits down silently. “Why the long face, Cap?” He joins his best friend on board and together they sit on the deck.

“I have a daughter, Will.”

“Bout time you caught up to speed, mate. Took awhile for ya math to add up, huh?”

“She told me Hope wasn’t mine. Like a fool, I believed her.”

“How’d ya find out?”

“Her baby book. There was my damn surname staring back at me. Not to mention she has my blasted ears.” Will playfully flicks the tip of one of them.

“Ouch. That's unfortunate, on both counts.”

“Emma was raising my child and never even told me.”

“Not to take her side, but you were adamant about needing time to heal. I’m not sure I would’ve found ya either.”

“Thanks, asshole." Will offers him a sip of his beer and Killian snorts and shakes his head. They sit in silence for several moments.

“She did though, mate.” Will announces.

“Did what?”

“Came to find you. She showed up on our doorstep right after you’d left for England.”

“What?! William, if you're lying I'll throw your happy ass overboard! What did she say?”

“Just that she needed to speak to you. She looked a wreck. I told her you’d left and I didn’t know when you’d return.” Killian grabs him by the collar.

“You son of a bitch! How could you hide this from me?”

“I wasn’t hiding nothin’. Truth is, by the time you got back, I’d forgotten. If I’d known she had your kid, though, I would’ve found you in a hot minute!” Killian sighs and lies flat on the deck of his ship, looking up into the inky sky as Will continues. “I'm sorry, mate."

"Why didn't she try again?" He traces constellations with his index finger, one of the only leftover traits from his childhood.

"I reckon she just wanted to give you your best chance and have faith that you'd find her."

"I should've stayed, Will."

"No! Don't go there, Killian, no matter what your big bleedin' heart says. You’re in a good place; mentally, financially, physically. You weren’t that person three years ago. You're ready to be that man that she needs."

"She lied to me. I don't know if I can get past that."

"Mate! Fuck! Instead of dwelling in the past, you need to move forward. Don’t think about the what ifs. Fight for the future you want. Fight for her, for yer kid." Will emphasizes his speech with a punch to Killian's gut. "And may the Gods help us all now that your genetics have been passed on.”

“Come on, let’s shove off. I’ll take you back to Boston. I’ve got some loose ends to tie up there.” Killian attempts to rise, but Will pushes him back down.

“No need. I’ve already called Belle. She’s on her way. I called her while you were on your date. I knew the minute you found her, I'd lost ya.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He wakes up well before the town does, but manages to snag breakfast and pick up some supplies at the grocery store to stock his ship for the journey to Boston. True to his word, Belle picked up her husband around 10:00pm, leaving Killian to his own devices. Sleep evaded him most of the night, his thoughts consumed by Emma and Hope. Will was right, he had to move forward with his life and if Emma could forgive him his transgressions, then he could forgive hers. He simply couldn't hang on to anger when he had a daughter looking up to him. When he swings by the sheriff’s station to tell Emma of his plans, he is greeted by the sweetest little brunette.

“Daddy!” She runs into his arms. You’d never know that two days ago they’d never met. Hope has the advantage, he figures, because she has always known him, even if just through photographs and stories.

“Good morning, little love.” He dares to press a kiss to the top of her head. _She's mine._

“That’s a bit too personal, it's Sheriff Humbert to you, Jones."

"Ew, are you flirting with me?" Killian sticks his tongue out and wrinkles his nose, eliciting a giggle from Hope. Graham laughs. 

"Emma isn’t here, by the way. She’s checking out a neighborhood disturbance."

“'Tis fine. I just wanted to tell her I’m going to Boston for a few days. I’m going to move here permanently and I need to get my affairs in order.”

“You’re moving here?”

“Aye.” _Why does this surprise him?_

“Good. Is this for Hope or Emma?”

“It’s for me, mate.”

“Even better. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about being a father, it wasn't my place." He shakes his hand in a peaceful truce.

"It's fine. She didn't tell me by choice, I figured it out."

"And it took you two days. I could've figured it out in two minutes." _Smug bastard._

"Yeah, yeah, Humbert."

"I’ll tell her you stopped by, Killian.”

“Thanks." He puts his daughter down and holds her hand. "I’ll see you in a few days, Hope."

“Bye!” She leans in and kisses his cheek while he hugs her tightly.

He makes it back to his ship with a full heart. _I'm a father, I'm a father._ Just as he’s beginning to set sail, a frantic Emma marches up the gangplank. _What in the bloody hell?_ She pushes him.

“Really, Killian? Running away, again? Well, guess what, this time I’m not letting you! You said you’d never leave me again! How could you do this to me? To her! Can’t you see how much I fucking love you?! I’m sorry I never told you about her, I’m sorry about a lot of things, but you’re high off your ass if you think you're walking away from this! We can figure this out.”

“I'm sorry, too. Will told me about you visiting Boston. I'm sorry. I never knew.”

“He...he did? I was desperate. Hope was a few weeks old and not sleeping well. I needed help. I-I needed you. I _need_ you, Killian.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t around.” He steps forward a cups her cheek, but her smile gives way to a frown. She slaps his hands away.

“Yet, off you go! Back to Boston! Graham told me.” The Storybrooke cruiser pulls into the lot and Graham steps out with Hope in tow.

“Did he not also tell you that I’ll return in a few days to find permanent residence here?”

“Huh? No.” She shoots a glare at the sheriff. He innocently shrugs.

“I’m setting sail in ten minutes. Do you wanna come with me? I have some loose ends to tie up.”

“No. I mean I would, but I have no one to watch Hope.”

“That’s a cop out, Emma. I’ve got her! Go!” Graham shouts.

“But my parents?!” She shouts back at him.

“Will be home tonight, I’ll catch them up to speed. Go!” She turns to Killian.

“I don’t have a change of clothing.”

“Nonsense, I’ve got some great finds in my cabin.”

“I suppose…”

“In or out, Nolan? Tick tock.”

“I’m in, Jones. Graham, are you sure?”

“Get out of here, Emma.” She runs up and kisses his cheek and bids farewell to her daughter, before walking up the gangplank once more.

“Killian Jones, will you take me to Boston with you?”

“Aye, but I have three conditions."

"Oh, boy."

"Number one, don’t ever lie to me again."

“Never.”

“Number two, we take our time. No rushing, no worrying, this ship is a stress free zone."

“Okay. And three?”

"We're forbidden to use the past against each other."

"Agreed." They soon have his ship departing and drifting out to open sea.

"There is one more thing, love." His smile is confidence, if not a bit cocky.

"What's that?" He leans in close to her ear.

“I really want more babies with you.”

“Now?!” He laughs a genuine laugh, one that reaches his eyes and warms his heart.

“Well, not now, exactly, but in the near future, yes. Whatta ya say, Swan?”

“I think it’s negotiable, sailor. However, my father will castrate you if I have another child out of wedlock.” He teases her with a gentle kiss to her lips.

“Done. Boston has a fine courthouse.”

“Did you forget, my last engagement didn’t go so well.”

“That’s why we’re bypassing that endeavor all together.”

“My my, aren’t you reckless?”

“On the contrary, loving you has been the only constant my life has ever known. Neither one of us is perfect, we never will be, but I love you so much, Emma. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”

“I love you too, Killian." She gives him a soft peck on the lips. 

"Now, you can sit here and tell me everything there is to know about our daughter."

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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